Intended
by GraciellaRed74
Summary: Tig/OFC: Jocelyn loves Tig, but knows that means she's got serious issues. Tig loves Jocelyn, but knows that means he's vulnerable. Can they love each other more than they hate themselves? A twisted tale of true love as only Tig could live it.
1. Her Again?

_Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

The first time he'd ever seen her, Tig had been disappointed that her skin was so fair. Her long, wavy dark hair had caught his attention and made him expect to have a bronze complexion and brown eyes meet his stare, but it wasn't to be. No, her hair was dark, almost black like his, but she was anything but Latina. She was all peaches and cream this one, green eyes that gleamed like fire lit emeralds, shiny, neatly trimmed hair, her make up perfect. She was young too, younger than most hangarounds, but there was nothing underdeveloped in her figure, she had a million dollar body, full, firm breasts, gracefully curving hips, long elegant legs. To say she was pretty wasn't saying enough; she was gorgeous… beautiful…too beautiful to be hanging around biker trash like him. That was two years ago. The life had taken some of that away from her now, her makeup was no longer matte, and she chose to trace her green eyes with black liner, her hair was longer and more ragged on the ends, all her former perfections noticeably botched, but she was still too beautiful to be here.

He fucking hated Butcher, but then, who didn't? Aaron Butcher had been in SOA once, and he'd been in The Tribe once, and the Hells Angels once, went out east and became a Pagan, once. The asshole collected top rockers, staying with a club until the Feds put too much of a squeeze on them and then he resigned and bolted to his next destination, leaving his brothers to hang alone. He might as well have been a rat, and rats deserved to die. Well, Tig knew he was stretching things, but he'd still like to see Butcher dead. The bastard had balls coming back here, particularly with her. How long had this been going on? The last time Tig left her, it wasn't with Butcher.

Tig shook his head in discontent; didn't that silly little bitch learn anything last time? What did he have to do to make it clear to her? Didn't she understand what it was he tried to do for her? She wasn't stupid, he knew that, her IQ was 164, all the Mensa shit had been plastered all over her bedroom walls beside the beauty pageant photos and sashes and tiaras and shit. So why? Why didn't she get it? Tig was staring again, more than just staring, scrutinizing every detail from her black leather slouch boots, up her long legs to the denim mini skirt and the half unzipped black hoodie she wore. Butcher had walked over to where she was standing away from the crowd, his six foot four inch, three hundred pound frame towered over her, made her look like nothing. His thick brown beard moved as he spoke to her, his long dark blond hair sticking out all over the place beneath the knit black skullcap, it was like watching Sasquatch hitting on a school girl. But when Butcher approached her, Tig noticed with an out of place excitement that she unconsciously took a step backwards, away from her old man. Ah, she fucking hated Butcher too! And now there was a smile on his face, a musing smile…the worst kind to have anyone else notice.

"Pretty piece a jailbait Butcher's draggin' aroond these days." Chibs was looking in the same direction that Tig was, his eyes on the same dark haired girl as he lifted a beer bottle to his lips. "The man's a piece a shit, but he's got fine taste in women."

"Yeah," laughed Jax facetiously. "If you can even call her a 'woman.' I bet she's got a book report due in the morning."

Tig heard them but didn't hear them, he was too busy watching, analyzing; any moment now that girl was going to step away from Butcher, and then she'd be alone, and vulnerable. And finally she did, directed over towards the bar to get Butcher a beer, walking off with her head down, looking more dejected and desperate than he'd ever seen her before. It kind of hurt in a place he didn't like, but it didn't change his intention. He gave Chibs and Jax a quick glance, jerked his bottle to his mouth and swallowed the last of his beer. "I know that girl." He stated, and walked off after her.

Jax turned to Chibs, half smirking. "Are you surprised?"

She leaned against the bar with her back to the crowd as she waited for Butcher's beer, she felt tired. But sleep wasn't going to remove that feeling; she was eighteen and understood what elderly people meant when they sighed and said they were tired. She was tired of going to sleep, tired of waking up, tired of eating and drinking and being touched and touching and thinking and feeling. Existing, she was so tired of being here or anywhere else. But then, what had she expected this life to be? She'd forgone the advice she should have trusted, twice, and now, here she was. Existing.

Butcher wouldn't have been so bad, if he were attractive, and didn't always smell like sweat and stale beer and cigarettes, and if he didn't dope her up so much she could barely think, let alone speak, and if he didn't treat her altogether like some pack mule he also fucked. But at least he was big and mean, and hardly anyone messed with him or what was his, and that's all she could ask for. Almost.

She felt something snag her hair in the back, an empty was set down on the bar beside her, and then a hand gripped her shoulder gently, but solidly. Who would dare to touch her? What the hell? She jerked sharply and spun around with annoyed and squinted eyes.

"Jocelyn."

She more than knew the voice, that voice was a part of her, she used to hear it in her dreams until the downers Butcher forced on her turned sleep into a black nothingness. "Tig." She hadn't even realized she said anything, his name creeping out of her mouth with no thought as to how to form it or how it sounded. She blinked once, felt herself flush as she looked at him, the familiarity of his appearance always a strange comfort, short, rugged goatee, jeans with the wallet chain across his thigh, knife strapped to his hip, long sleeved black t-shirt, leather wrist cuffs, gold rings on every finger, heavy black motorcycle boots, and of course his cut. He looked like that the first time she'd ever seen him, back when she thought no other man could ever look as good sitting on a bike as Tig did. She still thought that.

She felt herself waver, surprise and fear gripping her that he was here, although she'd wanted to see him again for so long. Butcher, he wouldn't like it if he noticed her talking to another guy, he really wouldn't like it. And Tig, well, it was always so difficult to place his motivations and predict his moods, and the last time she saw him, the last thing he told her to do, she clearly hadn't. What exactly were his intentions? But it was Tig, and as soon as he said her name, her fight was lost. But it couldn't look that way.

"How are you doing?" He half smiled, putting his other hand possessively on her other shoulder and turning her to face him and only him. "And what the hell are you doing here?" Any concern he truly felt was masked in the foreboding tone of his voice, but he knew she wouldn't run from him or even be scared. They'd been through way too much together, knew one another far too well, she knew about his Bronze Star in Mogadishu, he knew about her father; they shared a bond that went beyond that of being a man and a woman.

Her brain seized with answers, so many explanations, so many apologies, so many pleas that she wanted to make to him. Her arms trembled to be wrapped around him with her head curled to his chest, he'd let her hold to him if she just pretended it wasn't happening, and let him pretend the same thing. But no, anywhere near Butcher was not a place to even be thinking these things. She shook her head, regained her solemn attitude. "I'm getting Butcher a beer," she said, picking up the new bottle, surprised by how much attitude tainted her words and wondering why. She looked at Tig, letting her eyes meet his, still as blue and as beautiful as they'd always been, watching her alertly if not somewhat amusedly, eagerly awaiting her next move and confident he could beat it. It made her a little angry. "And I think you know what happens to me if I don't take it to him."

Tig nodded, but he'd never tell her how stupid Butcher would be if he did anything to her. He casually pulled a cigarette from the inside pocket of his cut, offering it to her first, only to have her refuse it. "Still not smoking or drinking, huh?" he laughed somewhat condescendingly as he put the cigarette between his lips and reached into his jean pocket for a lighter. He looked across the bar towards Butcher, but only for a second, the big man was distracted in conversation. Tig snapped a flame from the lighter and gave her a sideways glance. "Two minutes," his voice was low, he paused to light the cigarette and puff out some smoke. "Find a reason, meet me outside."


	2. Up Against A Wall

It was like their very first private meeting all over again two years ago. He was leaning against his bike in the bar parking lot, smoking and staring down at his boots until he heard the entrance door of the bar open and she stepped out. As if she needed reminding, he raised his hand and beckoned to her with his finger, smiling smugly at her. He always looked like nothing could move him, like nothing could knock him over whether on his bike or on his feet. Tig maybe wasn't as brawny as Butcher, but Tig was all over solid in ways that most men would never even understand. Jocelyn did though, felt the vibe coming off him the first time she'd seen him. On the outside he was aloof, cool, dangerous, sexy, mysterious and strange, but she saw in his amazing eyes some extraordinary power that lay deep inside him, gently coiled until called upon to strike. He was just what she'd been looking for, he was just what she needed, if he couldn't help her, no one could. But she'd nearly ruined what the night full of exchanged glances and flirting with him had won her by walking up to him in that parking lot like an idiot and asking, "So, are you a real biker, or just one of those guys who's like really a dentist and rides motorcycles on the weekend?"

Tig had just laughed a little without smiling, leaned back and lifted his leg over his bike. "Get on and find out." Was his suggestion, and then he revved the throttle. She was smart enough to be scared, and awed enough to do what he said.

It was nearly dark this time, the glow of his cigarette more prominent than she recalled the first time she met him in a bar parking lot. She still knew what he was though, and she still needed him, more than ever. Hopefully, he'd make it easy for her to ask, he had to know she needed him.

Tig looked up as she came closer to him, casually scratching his forehead with the thumb of the hand holding his cigarette. "What you tell him?"

She shoved her hands into the front pockets of her hoodie. "That I felt sick, was coming out here to puke." Tig rolled his eyes at her, clearly he thought that was the dumbest excuse he'd ever heard, and his judgmental attitude was only adding to her over all annoyance. "Look, it happens a lot more than you think, okay? He believed me!"

Clearly she was pissed off, but why with him? Tig drew back his stare and looked her over from head to toes again. "Not knocked up, are you?"

Jocelyn huffed. "No, you of all people should know that can't happen." Why she was feeling so much irritation towards him was becoming a little clearer. She'd been hoping and praying to find him somehow for months, and now here he was, and all she felt was bitterness…and betrayal. Things could have been different right now, if he'd let them be, if he'd taken her with him. "Butcher drugs me up every fucking day, Tig. You don't think that makes me sick? Each morning when I wake up, if I even wake up, he forces me to take a bunch of tranq—"

"Yeah," Tig nodded, no empathy in his voice as he exhaled smoke like a dragon, he wanted to hear that she regretted not listening to him when he told her to go stay with her aunt, go back to school, go be a checkout girl at Wal-Mart, go anywhere but where she was now. "Makes an old lady a lot easier to handle, don't it?"

She should have expected it but she couldn't believe he'd just said that. Now she was hurt and angry. "Oh, that's right," Jocelyn smiled sarcastically, but then raised her voice. "I forgot, you're Tig Trager, SAA for SAMCRO, and you know fucking everything!"

Tig jumped in response to her tone of voice, was up off his bike and looking down over her in a split second, one hand grabbed the front of her hoodie fiercely and yanked her against him, holding her there despite her shocked gasp and struggles. "I knew where your little ass would end up, and it has! I must be a little more psychic than you are, baby!"

"Now you're psychic?" She spat at him. Anyone else might have been scared, but Jocelyn was too angry, tried to pull out of his grasp but he was too strong.

"Maybe." Tig tightened his hold on her, had a handful of her hair and the sweatshirt.

She couldn't move away from him, and for as much as Jocelyn had longed to be close to him again, she wanted no part of that now. She didn't want him to be this way, she didn't want him to remind her that he'd tried to keep her out of this life, she didn't want him to be right about where she'd ended up. She wanted to be with him, that's all she wanted, but it wasn't what Tig had wanted, said it wasn't something he was capable of, he'd been honest, and even noble in trying to redirect her and getting the hell out of her life, and right now, she hated him for all of it. Without thinking she quickly raised her hand and swung, slapping him squarely in the face with a resounding 'crack' that stung the palm of her hand. "Did you know that was going to happen?"

Tig had never taken well to being slapped by a woman, it was second nature that made him give her a violent shake and yank a big handful of her hair and skin at the back of her head, dipping her backwards, dropping the cigarette from the other hand as it balled into a fist, his eyes lit with savageness, but when he looked down and saw Jocelyn there, watching him, too startled to breathe but ready to accept what she knew she'd provoked, all harmful intent left him; he'd never hit her before, and he wasn't about to start. But so much was now unleashed inside him, he had to inflict himself on her somehow, and so he turned, kept hold of her by the scruff of her neck, and dragged her with him to the shadow darkened side wall of the building. She fought him, dragged her feet, made noises of futile protest, until he had her where he wanted her, up against the wall, his hands pinning the backs of hers against the cinderblocks, and he kissed her, rough and brutishly, taking what she had before she could offer it to him, his teeth scraping hers as his tongue drove into her mouth against her own.

By now Jocelyn had kissed her share of men, but none of them were like kissing Tig; she could think of plenty of other things while kissing other men, she could go through the motions but not truly be in the moment, she could break the kiss at her leisure, and sometimes did when her thoughts took her elsewhere. But not so with Tig, his mere stare had an unbreakable hold on her and touching him only amplified that. The taste of his mouth rushed through her, every memory of him exploding in her brain and making her entire body tingle and push away from the wall closer to the heat of his form. She couldn't keep up with the way he kissed her, his lips claiming hers, then the corners of her mouth, her chin, her neck, and back to her mouth again, stealing away the meager breath she'd managed to draw and leaving her dizzily drunk on his desire for her. And he didn't stop, demanding more, his goatee scraping her skin raw as he forced them closer and the kiss deeper, her mouth and lips conquered by his own now, and the rest of her not so very far behind them. But still some paranoid part of her would not relax into this, knew this couldn't be, not anymore.

"Stop it," she'd intended to say it loudly, loudly enough to get his attention, but instead her throat constricted, her body refusing to be as one with her mind as Tig sucked at her neck and lips in passionate abandon. But she had to stop him; this wasn't like it used to be anymore, Butcher would kill her, and then kill Tig.

"You know me, baby, once I start, I don't stop." Tig paused long enough to hoarsely say, but didn't even look at her, just let go of one of her hands and grabbed a healthy portion of her ass with a sharp growl, pulling her closer upon the hardening lump growing at his groin and kissed her again.

He'd heard her, but he wasn't listening, the same way he wouldn't listen when she'd begged him to take her with him, said she'd die without him; he never listened! Anger surged in Jocelyn again and she drew the hand he'd let go of between them and shoved him hard in the shoulder, surprising him enough to make him look up. "I belong to Butcher!" She reminded him through clenched teeth, and tears in her eyes.

He of course knew that, and yet, he'd forgotten all about it. He hated the sound of it, she belonged to Butcher? Like hell she did! Didn't that little mark low on her left hip mean anything to her? He'd never marked a woman as his before, but the last time he saw Jocelyn he held his belt buckle over a candle flame until it glowed, then as she slept, slapped the raised relief of the monogrammed A and T against her skin. How had she explained that little brand to Butcher? He'd put that mark there to keep her away from guys like Butcher. Damn her for not going back to her little genius beauty queen life of Harvard and horse shows, but most of all, damn Butcher! He wasn't losing anything to that asshole, particularly not Jocelyn! "Call him!" Tig roared, stepping back from her a bit, his rage nearly splitting him in two, daring her to do so, no matter how disastrous the outcome would be. "Call him out here! He can kick my ass right now!"

They were staring at each other, breathing heavily for what seemed like forever, Jocelyn so overcome by Tig's insane fortitude, so spellbound by how he never seemed to have any fear of anything; the things so horrible, so base, so frightening, that no one else could bring themselves to do, Tig was born to do. Everyone said he was crazy, but Jocelyn knew that wasn't entirely it; he was just a little stronger than everyone else. She loved him for it; she loved him.

She began to notice his blue eyes were searching hers, shifting a bit as though trying to read an answer in her face, what was her decision? Him? Or Butcher? How could there be anyone but Tig? With a strength that surprised her, she threw herself against him, her arms wrapped around his neck as she kissed him as hard and frantically as he'd been kissing her, holding tightly, her breasts flat against his heaving chest, trying to wrap her body around his, and hold onto him, forever.

"I thought so," Tig growled against her lips, then gasped, taking his mouth from hers long enough to pull the zipper of her hoodie all the way down and bend his head to kiss her chest, letting his body crash against hers, they both hit the wall with a thud as he jammed the hard shape of his cock into the softness of her belly with a needful groan.

Jocelyn's body was already making accommodations for what she felt bulging against her stomach, the crotch of her panties damp with the lubrications Tig coaxed from her swelling pink folds and elongating sheath. It had been so long since she'd had him inside her, she wanted him so much. She felt herself shuddering against him as his hand slipped between them in a rush to undo his belt and fly. His heart was pounding as hard and fast as hers was, this would happen fast, and she wanted it fast, fast and rough, but she longed to run her hands up the length of his cock again, from the nest of black curls at its base to the large, blunt, egg shaped head of it and feel all eight tautly curved inches of him throb against her fingers. She loved to feel his cock in her grasp, loved the noises he made when she stroked it, loved what it did to her own body to wrap her hands around an instrument of such immeasurable pleasure. He was the most formidably made lover her body had ever known, the only man she actually enjoyed touching, the only man that sex had actually felt good with, and she lavished her attentions upon his body at every carnal turn their time together took, eager to explore him, and Tig pleased to be discovered.

Only here and now, with so much energy stirred between them and mixed to explode there would be no time for that. Tig was impatient, crazed with the need for this latest fix, his fingers ground against the cotton of her panties as his tongue invaded her mouth, his other hand kneading her breast and pinching her nipple through the lace of her bra. His entire body was stiff with his want, every muscle tight as their mouths twisted against each others, biting kisses between grunts and groans, until finally he crooked a finger between her legs and yanked the crotch of her panties to one side. Jocelyn barely had time to gasp and thrust herself forward, hoping for some contact with his digit, when she felt the rounded head of his cock slide up through her wet slit, over her engorged clitoris, her body jolted as the sparks flew inside her, Tig pulling her skirt up and pushing her legs as wide apart as he could get them.

Jocelyn squirmed between his body and the wall, unable to keep still, her body begging his to make her whole. Had there not been such heat and rush between them, he'd have dropped to one knee and taken her leg over his shoulder, giving her sweet, lush creases a good combing over with his beard, then soothed the prickliness with his tongue, drinking in all her honeys and letting her taste fuel the fire that burned in every one of his veins. Just the thought of how she tasted and felt under his tongue made the head of his cock weep with pre-cum and he felt his balls getting tight. He couldn't wait any longer, took his cock in his hand and moved it down towards her slick opening, pausing abruptly and taking her under the chin with his other hand, lifting her head and making her open her desire clouded eyes and look at him.

"Tell me you love me," he was so out of breath it was a whisper, every nerve ending in his being crying out for gratification and cursing him for delaying it to demand such a stupid thing.

He often asked her that at the height of his passion, and there was no other time he wished to hear her say so. She trembled so with her need; the night air cool around her exposed hips and wet inner pink folds that just barely kissed the head of his big cock. She wanted him, more than she ever had before, with her body, and her heart. She looked at him as levelly as her urgency would allow her to, "I love you, Tig."

His mouth crashed over hers again in answer, kissing her fiercely as he plunged the head of his cock into her with a sudden and vicious thrust he knew she was amply wet enough to take. He used to be too big for her, but he'd made her fit him, and her body remembered his shape and size so well it was like she was custom made for him and only him. She shook and her hips bucked at his in eager welcome to his forceful invasion, drawing him deeper, moaning into his hungry mouth. Jocelyn always moaned and shuddered so when each inch of his length slid inside her for the first time, it all unraveled something in him that Tig couldn't name, but he lived for it. Her legs wrapped around his waist tightly, her arms around his neck, the liquid heat of her core squeezing his shaft and cock head wildly with all the strength she had. She was velvet locked around steel, sending a rush of spasms up his cock that rattled clear up to his brain. Tig growled deep in his chest, and let himself go, fucking her as hard and as fast as he could in this standing position.

Her body was astounding in both sight and feel, but Tig fought to think of her only within physical limits. She was like being enrobed in silk, hot, fluid silk, her body giving all to his and taking all from his, moving with every jar and jab and drive he meted out, as ravenous for release as he was, but there was more happening between them than just that. He'd been with countless women, too many to remember, but Jocelyn stood apart from them, distinguished by the connection of emotion and carnal pleasure that Tig would never admit he felt, but experienced only with her. She was sixteen the first time he fucked her, it should have been nothing then, but it wasn't, and the feelings only intensified each time he took her. What it was in him that wouldn't let him walk away from her forever he'd never understand, he wasn't the type to take a steady lover, had divorced one wife within two years of his tour in Somalia because he was too fucked up to go back to family life, he wanted no part of any meaningful relationship, and yet, here he was, fucking Jocelyn and feeling so much more than just her luscious, slick pussy.

Jocelyn could feel Tig becoming more frenetic against her, his drives jerkier and deeper, like he was trying to find some place inside her that wouldn't let him in. He always fucked her like he meant to open her up wide to him and plunder whatever was inside her, leaving her filled with all that he was in his wake. It was a feeling she'd never gotten with any other man, and never understood she wanted until the first time Tig fucked her.

He was getting close, dissolving into the same sweet torture that was pulling all the strings within her tight enough to snap. He needed more from her, she could sense that, and she wanted to give it to him, to let him have everything and feel him do whatever he liked with it. She angled her hips more open, untangled one of her legs from around his narrow waist, meaning to put her foot down on the knocked over five gallon drum beside them and push off of it so that Tig didn't have to support her so much and could just tear into her like she knew he loved to. Instead, Tig's hand closed around her calf, unbending her elegant leg and pushing it almost straight up between them, taking full advantage of her flexibility, the heel of her foot on his shoulder. Her spine immediately arched into him, giving him more access, his cock shoving its way deeper, all the way in, as far he could go, the head of it flush against her cervix, making Jocelyn flinch with the intrusive pleasure of being touched to her deepest center. Every muscle in Tig's body jolted, and he found a new gear, thrashing at her with unrestrained fervor.

All she could do was hook her arms around him and hold on, move where he needed her to and let him have what he wanted. Her body thrummed with a rolling tension that was quickly consuming her, each thrust of Tig's cock bringing her closer, feeding her need, turning her into a slave to something primal. The vibrations of his mad thrusts took hold of her excited clitoris, and she ground herself against him mercilessly.

Tig's lips were at her neck, kissing, sucking, biting, murmuring something unintelligible, lost to everything in the world but the feeling of his cock bulging to the bursting point deep inside Jocelyn's body. The sensations of orgasm were tearing him apart, cock and balls bristling with pleasure so intense he sometimes confused it with pain. Fire and ice blasted simultaneously threw his veins, Jocelyn gave a cry and dug her nails into the leather of his cut, he slammed into her deep and his body froze, stealing away his breath, and all went black for a second. An ocean of erotic relief washed over him, the only moment of purity Tig had come to truly know in the last fifteen years, but it wasn't just the build of a satiating release with her, it was exploding into Jocelyn that felt the most satisfying, feeling Jocelyn take him into her body and hold him, caressing him in return with her own fury.

They were both still now, slumped against the wall and each other, trying to catch their breath in the stillness of the night. This was when Tig would usually roll off of whatever girl he was with, turn his back to her and forget she existed; if she was smart, she'd know to just get out of bed and leave him the hell alone, he was done with her, she'd served her purpose. He'd tried to be that way with Jocelyn too, and she'd been good about vacating whatever bed they shared at the appropriate time, until one night when she fell asleep next to him accidentally, and he awoke to find her there in the middle of the night, curled perfectly against him. Feeling that he didn't mind had been much more unsettling than discovering her there. He was still recovering, waiting for blood to return to his extremities, but that memory made him rebellious of the close contact they currently shared and Tig straightened, took his weight on his feet. Jocelyn instantly wrapped her limp arms and legs around him, halting him though.

"No," she gasped as though he were about to step back into fire. She wasn't ready to let go of him, just wanted him close, had to tell him she wanted to be with him, that she needed him, that she had no one else. But of course, she couldn't say that, not that way, not to Tig. Her body was weak still, but she contracted the muscles around his softening cock as tightly as she could, kissing his neck softly as she did. "Don't take it out, not yet." 

He stilled, a tinge of desire rising in him again at her words, but he'd very little left in him with which to act upon it, but he leaned into her more, tipping her head up and kissing her to alleviate the minor flash of wanton fancy. Her lips were supple and sweet against his and she sucked at his tongue, tracing it with hers, making Tig wish they had more time and a better place that he could put her on her knees and fuck her mouth; he'd had to basically teach her how, but no one sucked cock like Jocelyn now, she new exactly what he liked. But he was regrettably tired, his spent organ slipping from Jocelyn's body despite her efforts to keep him inside her.

"Tig," she whispered, feeling how relaxed he was, surprised by the softness of his kiss. Tig wouldn't be this way for very long, she had to ask him now. She needed him more than ever now, after what they'd done here against the wall.

His eyes opened slowly and connected with hers, his hand cupping her cheek tenderly, fingers smoothing through her dark hair as he stared at her through the spell of after glow, knowing that she loved him, almost wanting to acknowledge it, but no, he never would. Still, he should say something, something she'd understand in some vague way. "I could cum by just kissing you." He whispered, and kissed her softly again before she had the chance to think about what he might mean.

Jocelyn's arms tangled around him again, happy to be kissed by him like this, a violent man who was so gentle with her. She hated to end this, but had to, and took her mouth from his, pulling him close instead. "Tig, I need you," she whispered pleadingly, feeling tears in her eyes again when she thought of facing Butcher. Tig didn't notice she cried though as he kissed her neck and made her shudder all over again. "I should have listened to you. I can't take it anymore, and I don't know how to get out of this. If he doesn't kill me, I think I might…" she shuddered now for a different reason. "Please, Tig, I'll do anything you say—"

Tig sighed even before he raised his head; he'd known this was coming. Hadn't this been the reason she'd ever talked to him in the first place two years ago? He'd been thinking it himself as soon as he'd seen her with Butcher, but he was still so angry that she'd put herself in this situation to begin with, and if she thought he'd go and kill Butcher for her, then she'd never learn to stay out of this life. "You want him dead?"

He had a way of cutting to the chase that always left her startled. Jocelyn balked, couldn't make herself answer in the affirmative. "What are my other choices?"

Tig reached for another cigarette. He'd already made up his mind about Butcher, but she didn't have to know that. It was more important to him that she realized he was right, that it was drilled into her head that he was right, not so he could ride some rush of righteousness, but because the next time he put her back where she belonged, she'd stay there. He sighed, feigned reluctance. "I can't keep doing this for you, you know." He lit the cigarette and looked away from her casually and shrugged his shoulders. "Your father, Butcher…" he looked back at her, curious to see her expression. "You fuck me and I make your problems go away?"

Jocelyn drew a shallow breath. Did he really feel used? Tig? SAMCRO's infamous Sergeant at Arms? Was she using him? No, of course not. Okay, she had when it came to her father, but then that had worked out differently in the end anyway. And Butcher, well, she never would have been with Butcher if she weren't out desperately trying to find the man she loved. How did she make Tig understand that? "You know," she closed the distance between them slowly, making sure his eyes were on hers. "I've learned a few things since I last saw you. I know now it's not the life I can't hack, it's the life with Butcher." She knew by the way Tig squinted at her that he was listening. "And I've learned that for a woman, survival around here means fucking a bigger bad ass than the last one you fucked previously…" the ghost of a smile played at her mouth as she laid her hand on his chest, her eyelashes fluttering as she turned her gaze adoringly up at him. "I just did that."

He smiled, laughed dryly, but ultimately removed her hand from his chest and balled it up within his own. He knew what she was doing, what she was getting at, and he wouldn't have this argument with her again. He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it, then dropped it like a rock. "Don't look at me like that, kid. You want your old man dead, kill him yourself."

"Damn it, Tig!" Anger rose in her with no warning and began to mix with panic, making her more desperate than she'd been in months. "I can't do this anymore! I'm asking you for help! Please!" But Tig seemed unmoved, standing there smoking and giving her a look that only spoke of how she should have listened to him, how he'd tried to keep her from being in this much danger. He had the right to hold that over her head, Jocelyn accepted that, but now she was in serious danger. Someone was likely inside right now talking about how long ago Tig had disappeared, followed by Butcher's old lady, and how that could only mean one thing. If Butcher found out…more tears streamed down Jocelyn's face, her fate was sealed. "He's going to kill me, Tig!"

Good, she was scared, and she should have been. Maybe after he took care of Butcher, she'd stay away for good this time. For good, he ignored the coldness the thought of never seeing her again brought with it. He couldn't afford to look or sound the least bit soft, and he hardened his stare. "Go back inside," he told her, steeling himself against her tears, being as cold and apathetic as he could be. "When I come in, don't notice me."

Jocelyn felt her heart sink into her stomach. Was this truly it? He wasn't going to do anything? He knew better than she did what being with him just now would end up costing her. "Tig?"

He exhaled sharply, snorting smoke like an evil beast, and this time pointed at the door of the bar, eyes hard and angry. "Go!"

Her fear turned more to anger, she'd never understand him, no matter how much she wanted to or tried to. Just when she thought that maybe there was something human inside him, he proved her wrong. She wiped at her tears, scared, frustrated, feeling betrayed again. "Fine!" It was all she could think of to say, but then, if Tig didn't care, there was nothing else to say to him. She shoved her hands back into the front pockets of her hoodie and started for the door, shoulders stooped, head down, wondering how many days, how many hours, she had left to live, but that mattered less to her than Tig's disregard. She loved him.

He hated to see her looking like that; it was like being punched in the gut to see her look like that. Fuck! Why couldn't he get control of himself around her? "Joss," what the hell was he doing? Why did he bother? He was only asking for trouble, and it had had nothing to do with Butcher. Tig sighed, trying to remember when he could or couldn't feel things depending on whether he wanted to or not. "I won't let him kill you."


	3. Frantic Phone Call

_Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Intended Part 3

The magazine slid into the Taurus Millennium smoothly and clicked into place, such a satisfying sound. Blued steel, double trigger action, injection molded polymer frames, Smith and Wesson cartridge, a drop safety…Butcher wasn't good enough to be killed with this gun, but Tig was going to do it anyway. He waited on his bike outside the motel room door; there was no need for any concealment of the pistol or his face. Butcher knew him, and he'd be dead. Jocelyn knew him too, and Tig wanted her to see him, wanted her to know he'd neutralized the threat, that he'd been there for her, that he cared. Well, maybe he didn't want to get in quite that deep with her. What he really wanted was her feeling grateful enough to fuck him in the motel room she and Butcher were staying in, after Butcher was laying dead on the floor. The thought made Tig smile; it would be sort of déjà vu.

That night two years ago when his cell had rung at two in the morning, Tig had been sure it was Clay. Who else could possibly need him at 2am? But the voice on the other end was nowhere close to Clay's.

"Tig?"

"Who is this?" It was a woman, her heavy breath so hard and fast that it nearly muffled out her words, but over all he got a sense of chaos on the other end of line. What the hell was going on?

"It's Joss." She paused, sounded like her voice gave out for a moment and he could hear her teeth chatter together as she worked to get it back. "I—"

Jocelyn? What the fuck? "How'd you get this number?" Of course she'd repeatedly asked for his number, wanted to know how to get in contact with him; wouldn't give up her hope that he'd agree to some bullshit contract killing of her father. It was the only reason she'd painted herself up and gone into that biker bar the night he'd met her, she wasn't looking to be anyone's piece of ass, but she would be if it meant hiring a killer. But she was sixteen, and while there were some things he'd gladly do with her and had been, hiring on as a hitman wasn't one of them. What sixteen year old didn't want their parents dead? That's all he needed, offing her daddy and having the little shit change her mind once it all went down and going to the police. But Jocelyn had been persistent, asked him all the time, pestered him about accepting the job, kept raising the pay off amount, but at the most, Tig only said he'd "think about it" and kept putting her off, pretending to contemplate the job just enough to keep her hanging around, sucking his dick. And now the little rich bitch was calling his cell? Obviously she'd touched his phone without his knowing. That went beyond arrogance!

"Tig!" She said again, almost screamed, and then burst into such violent tears and sputters all he could make out was, "…need you…don't know what to do…"

He berated himself as he sat up and got to his feet, he berated himself as he pulled clothes and a Kevlar vest on, grabbing a gun and strapping on the knife, not knowing what he was about to head into and not understanding what it was that was making him do so in the first place. He didn't owe her anything, never made her a single promise even. Was it his fault that she saw him as some sort of rescuer from whatever it was that ailed her tonight? No. There was no sign on his back that read "hero," that was for damn sure. So why was he rushing in like a knight to save a damsel in distress? There was something critically wrong with him, even more so than before. He was thirty-nine years old! No sixteen year old kid living in a fucking mansion should have this much of a hold on him, despite how adept she was becoming at deep throating his eight inch cock!

No, he wasn't going to her. Whatever was going on with her tonight, whoever or whatever was attacking her, she was on her own. What did she expect him to do? And why did she expect him to do it? Did she think she meant something to him? Was that it? What indications of that had he ever given her? No, she was just a little snot nosed brat, somebody's spoiled princess, and Tig wasn't wasting his time with her anymore, no way, no how. But even as he was thinking it, he was on his bike, passing a semi at eighty miles per hour, heading for Joss's house hoping he wasn't already too late.

The sprawling house was dark, only the outside lights along the drive were on, and one light in the foyer. The place was still, too still, something was definitely going on, but had been somehow hushed up. He didn't like walking into this; it felt too much like an ambush, everything was so purposefully quiet. He parked the bike in the shadow of the house, away from any windows, dismounted and drew his weapon. What did Joss have going on in there tonight that had made her call him in the state she was in? He'd never bothered to ask why she wanted her father killed, it hadn't mattered to him why, he didn't have any intentions of working for her, but now he wondered as he skulked along the perimeter, taking cover wherever there was any, alert and suspicious of every shape and noise in the dark as he made his way up the front steps and to the French doors. He paused, listening for any noises inside, no voices, no shuffling around of feet, nothing. At least there was the light in the foyer, he'd be able to see when he entered, but then, anyone else in the house would also be able to see him. Why didn't he just leave?

Before he knew it, his hand was trying the door handle, it turned, opened silently and Tig stepped cautiously into the lit foyer, weapon out in front of him as he scanned the darkness ahead of him, his peripheral vision sharply accounting for what was to his left and right. If someone was hiding in the dark, they had better just jump out and get it over with, but there was nothing. Not a damned thing. What was going on? His footsteps echoed eerily into the darkened hallway as he moved, it was so hard to be quiet in such a damned big place with marble tiles and cathedral ceilings. Fuck this house! He'd been unseen so far, and the door was only a few steps behind him, he could be gone and no one would ever know he'd been there. But Jocelyn…no, fuck Joss! He didn't give a shit about the little wannabe sweetbutt, she certainly wasn't worth all the aggravation he'd been through tonight! Damn…he was seriously fucked up! Tig lowered his weapon and shook his head, he needed to get drunk, or high, or fuck something, whatever was going to drown out the thoughts in his head the fastest, but a sudden noise in the distance and a light coming on had him snap to attention again, his blood running cold and the Taurus in his hands pointed unwaveringly towards whoever was approaching him.

Closer, the footsteps were continuing up the hall towards him, a light, scampering step, he could see a shadow now moving along the wall. His finger pressed upon the trigger, tense, a bit more pressure and he'd pull it all the way back, but he waited, steady and cool, for his target to appear around the corner. A form lurched forward, walking as if its feet were unbalanced, stumbling up the hall. Tig's index finger curved, squeezed back on the trigger, another second and he'd be able to see well enough to get a head shot, he'd be ready, he'd drop whoever was coming down that hall. Another step, just one more step and there was brains on the wall.

The shadow suddenly gave up its identity and Tig froze, felt a shiver course through him as he stood, holding a gun on Jocelyn where she stood in the hallway. She'd stopped about ten feet away, as soon as she'd seen him. Smart girl, he'd have killed her otherwise. He wanted to drop the gun to his side and sigh his relief, but he didn't dare. "Joss!" He hissed angrily, mad at her for reasons he couldn't even describe, but she just stood there wavering and staring at him in a way all to familiar to him. He knew the look on her face.

"Tig," she sort of hiccupped, stumbled forward some more with her arms out to her sides. She didn't look right, besides the blank stare and stammering steps there was something dark speckled all over her face and her T-shirt. Blood? Did someone bash her on the head? Her father? "I'm sorry. I didn't know what else to do, I didn't know what else to do!" She repeated again and again, tears flowing and full out crying hysterically as she ran to him, throwing her arms around him and burying her face against his chest.

Ordinarily he'd have shoved her away, didn't want anyone that close that way, but she'd caught him so off guard he'd lowered his weapon and wrapped one arm around her shuddering form, robbed of his usual cold indifference. "Shhh, it's okay. What happened?" He whispered, realizing all too late he did so in an effort to soothe her. Christ, he was fucking losing it!

Still shaking, Jocelyn lifted her head, her wide, empty green eyes looked up at him, but she didn't speak, only pointed into the great room on the their left, tucked her face against his chest and immediately began balling again.

Fuck, why couldn't she just tell him? "Stay here," he whispered, peeling her off of him, Joss hugging herself tightly in his absence. Again he raised his weapon, peering into the darkness of the great room, but all he could make out was the back of a couch, a loveseat, an end table. He moved slowly, deliberately, gun pointed at anything that looked like it may move.

"You don't have to do that." Jocelyn stood shaking and crying behind him, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. "Just turn on the light."

There was the oddest sensation of something tightening in his gut that Tig rarely felt. He half didn't want to turn on the light, but his hand was reaching for the lamp, finding the switch and twisting it. The room flashed bright in a way that stung his eyes, Jocelyn letting out a little yelp in the foyer, as his eyes settled on the thing he just knew was there.

A man in a masculine lingerie get up of a red and blue silk bathrobe with matching red and blue silk boxers lie on the white carpet surrounded by what might as well have been a lake of blood. There was the stem of a smashed wine glass beside him, a bunch of red rose petals were scattered across the floor and chaise lounge. Looked like a romantic evening had been cut violently short. What remained of his face was a mass of gore buried in the carpet, not much was still recognizable, there was no forehead, maybe an eye and a cheekbone left on one side, the chin, but his face and head were pretty well blown off, bits of bone and flesh abounding everywhere. God Damn! Tig just sighed heavily and shook his head, this had to be Jocelyn's father, and in no time at all, she opened her mouth and confirmed his other suspicion.

"I don't want to go to jail!" She wailed, crumbling to her knees in the foyer, clamping her hands over her face as she cried, rocking forward and back. "I don't want to go jail…"

This was the last thing he'd expected to be pulled into by her. She certainly wasn't the type to go around busting caps in anyone's ass; she was nothing like he was. She was a nice girl, he could tell that from the moment he'd met her, easy enough to like, if not a little bit needy. He'd been careful and restrained enough not to fuck her, because she smelled all over like a bitch that would get knocked up to trap him, and then spend the rest of her life, until he slit her throat, chasing him for support when he wouldn't stay with her; silly bitch stuff like that he'd expected out of her, but not this. Man, there was more to the little beauty queen than he'd thought.

Tig looked over his shoulder at her, a rocking, mewling lump in the foyer, and a smile pulled at his mouth. A new feeling hit him hard, but he was okay with it. Now she was speaking his language, he was impressed. She'd made a hell of a mess of it, he'd seen more professional hits by bangers, but just the knowledge that she'd been able to pull the trigger, from the looks of things, fired three shots into her father's head at close range, made Tig feel a little mentor like. He turned, had to get her calmed down and show her how the rest of this went, but something on the floor nudged his boot before he stepped forward. The gun she'd used, .45 caliber Beretta, he picked it up.

"Maybe," Jocelyn still shuddered and tears still streamed down her face, she was watching him as if she expected him to disapprove and beat her or yell or something. "Maybe we should call the police? I could say it was an accident?"

Tig pulled the magazine from the Beretta and laughed without looking at her. "You emptied the clip, baby. That ain't no accident."

That observation did nothing to ease her mind and Jocelyn erupted with sobs and cries again, doubled over in the foyer as if she were dying. "What am I going to do?"

Maybe it was just the plain irritating sound of her howling that made his stomach drop like it did, but Tig suddenly needed to gasp for breath as he stared at her. It was hard to tell who the bigger mess was, her or her faceless father. He didn't remember moving towards her, he just was suddenly down on one knee in front her, lifting her upright and brushing away her tears. "Look, this thing is going to be okay, I'll help you." This was do-able, there was a fire pit in the back, in a gazebo. Tig's voice was soft and easy as he stared at her red and puffy eyes, stroking her long, dark, tangled tresses out of her face. He wasn't usually like this with a woman, unless it was going to get him some, but Jocelyn seemed to respond well to it, and he needed her to be paying attention. Fuck, there he went again, why did he even care? Angry with himself for how soft he was going, and wasn't able to stop it, his voice got a little rougher. "You gotta listen to me though, alright? This isn't going to be nice, it's not going to be pretty, but you gotta promise me if I tell you to do something, you'll do it!"

Maybe she was putting the pieces together in her head about what he meant because horror flashed in her eyes as she stared at him and she started to cry some more. "I can't—"

"No!" Tig yelled, grabbed her fiercely by the shoulders and shook her hard, like shocking her back to sensibility. He stared at her intensely, her eyes wide with fear and dread, but locked on his. "You don't want to go to jail? Whether you do or not gets decided right now, right here!" Her shaking was subsiding, his words seemed to be sinking in, but this was no time to let up on her. "Now you get your game face on, and you get it on now! We need tarps, trash bags, plastic wrap, whatever you've got. You go and you get that, along with a bucket, a sponge and some bleach, and we get to work! You got it?"

She drew in a sudden breath as she looked at him, her head nodded a little. "'H' two 'O' two." The gibberish fell out of her mouth, half mumbled, half suggested.

Tig shook his head in annoyed puzzlement. She wasn't shutting down mentally on him, was she? "What?"

Jocelyn breathed deeply again, steadied herself and tried once more. "Hydrogen…peroxide." It was an effort for her to talk, but she was managing it, getting it together, just the way he'd hoped she would, if not a little slower than he'd have liked, but Tig was oddly patient. "For the blood."

"Yeah," Her and her shitty little genius speak, but Tig nodded, excited that she was thinking, focusing. He leaned forward and kissed her quickly on the forehead before he could even think about what he was doing. "Good girl! Now go, get all the stuff together and bring it back here."

Again she nodded, leaned against him a little as she found her feet and stood up, Tig rising with her and spotting her incase she wavered too much, but to his delight, she didn't, just straightened her back and wiped furiously at her tear stained face. "Alright." She said, and took another deep breath.

She took a step away from him, heading off in the direction of the garage, which made him think of one more thing to ask her, and he hoped it didn't set her back to crying and screaming. "Joss, your father got a table saw or something?"


	4. The Take Over

_Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Intended Part 4

Tig was tired, but had managed to doze off throughout the night, awakening every half hour or so to throw another neatly packaged bundle of the secret he and Jocelyn now shared onto the fire. He'd stoke the coals, add more fuel, make sure everything was burning down to nothing, using the poker to smash up the larger masses of bone that burned white, but wouldn't crumble. He wanted nothing to remain, had been so much more meticulous than he ever had been before, going as far as to quadruple bag the lower jaw bone with teeth and bash it with a sledge hammer until it was nothing but a doughy lump inside the black plastic, something that would definitely never yield anything to a forensic odontologist looking to ID a body. Jocelyn had actually taken care of the upper jaw with the Beretta, that part of her father's face was gone, blown all over the wall, no dental evidence there either.

He'd been very strict with her in her cleanup too, inspecting everything she did, perhaps hurting her feelings when she'd shown off how white she'd gotten the carpet and wall when he took the claw end of the hammer he'd been using and popped the molding away from the wallboard, revealing more blood behind it. The look in her eyes was embarrassed dejection, but Tig didn't bend or go soft this time. "I said get everything! Even if you couldn't see it!" He'd growled, frustrated with her inability to know how important this was; he was trying to keep her out of jail, but he couldn't do it all by himself. Then he was frustrated with himself, for putting so much effort into protecting her. The tears that began to well in Jocelyn's eyes only made the whirl of confused feelings worse as she dropped to her knees by the bloody wallboard, picking up the sponge again. Tig sighed, the scene playing out inside him so much more off putting than what he'd been busy at in the garage with the rotary saw. He was being tough on her, she'd likely never need to draw upon this lesson again, but he wanted to know he'd taught her well; that she could carry on in his footsteps if ever she wanted to or had to. Tig leaned down, patted her shoulder as she scrubbed. "C'mon Joss," he encouraged softly, "make me proud, okay?"

She'd taken that to heart, cleaning behind the strip of molding with hydrogen peroxide, replacing the strip again, and then redeemed herself further when she stood in the doorway of the garage, couldn't bring herself to go in, but held up a bottle of drain cleaner. "I thought this might remove the skin from his fingers," she said as Tig looked at her and the bottle wondering what she was showing it to him for. "It's 95% sulfuric acid."

Tig had never known anyone with an IQ like hers, it shined at the oddest, most perfect of times. They'd made a good team, Joss had needed her share of direction and correction, but all in all, she'd come through better than he could have imagined a girl like her would have. He was beginning to see her differently, she wasn't the stuck-up, rich bitch, beauty queen he'd always thought of her as anymore, but she also wasn't like him, she was some atypical, bizarre amalgam of both, but was still a nice girl; a nice girl who hadn't slept all night; just sat there staring at the fire, saying nothing. He respected the isolation she seemed to need, but now in the twilight of morning, it was time to make her let go of this; people lived, people died, it was all inevitable, and fixating on what burned within the flames was pointless.

"He's not going to come crawling out of there, you know." He sat down beside her on the futon like cushion she hadn't moved from all night, contemplating slipping an arm around her if it would finally make her look away from the fucking fire. He was curious now as to her mood. Did she feel guilty? Was it remorse that wouldn't tear her gaze away from the pieces of burning flesh and bone?

Joss kept staring straight ahead though, the orange of the flames reflecting in her green eyes. Her stillness made him nervous, any other time when he'd moved beside her she became like a leach, trying to hang onto any part of him she could. Tig had always hated it, but at the moment, it would have made him feel better about where she was in her head. Well, maybe he should touch her or something? But before he had to, she spoke. "Have you ever killed anyone before?"

Wasn't that obvious? "Joss?" Tig laughed, giving her a shove with his elbow. "Stupid question." At least she was talking, though.

She nodded but kept her eyes on the fire. "How old were you the first time it happened?"

The question surprised him, he didn't want to answer, but sighed, just wanted her to loosen up for Christ's sake. "Twenty-six."

Her head jerked and she stared at him in some kind of new shock that seemed to stir something even more morbid inside her. "I'm ten years younger than you were the first time you—" 

"Hey," he was defensive at first, but soon realized Joss wasn't trying to one up him, that she was horrified with herself, wondering what it made her if she'd killed someone so early on in life, younger than even he had been when he first took a life. Tig had tried so hard to not consider such things he barely knew what to say to her anymore. But if she wanted to talk about it, if she needed to talk about it, was there anyone better qualified than him to listen? "Why'd you do it?" As if he hadn't been able to put the pieces together when he'd moved her father's body; she'd emptied most of the clip into daddy's groin, literally shot his dick off. Even Tig had to admit her father had crossed the line, and he felt for Joss, would have pulled the trigger on her old man himself if she'd ever mentioned he was fucking her; Tig did have daughters of his own, after all.

Jocelyn swallowed hard and looked back at the damned fire again. He reached over and cupped her chin, turning her head back towards him sharply. "No, look at me." He demanded wanting to read her eyes and make sure she was really in there. They had a lot of riding to do as soon as the fire was out, and he wasn't taking some crazed bitch on his bike all the way across the state line…sure, that was why he wanted to see her eyes.

"I," Joss stopped, the words just not coming and she balled her hands into fists. "Have you ever been so afraid of someone that the only way to not to be was to kill them?"

Tig shrugged, but it was true. "In split second intervals, I guess." He said, feeling like he was about to say too much, because no one knew this stuff about him. "Never pulled the trigger with the intent to kill until Mogadishu."

Jocelyn cocked her head a little, old news clips no doubt playing in her head. "You were—"

"Tenth Mountain Division, US Army Rangers." It had been over a decade since he'd said the words, they were better off forgotten anyway, but now he'd gone and opened a Pandora's Box of questions she'd start asking. Better to nip this in the bud. "Look, I'm not getting into all of it with you. The guy that came home from Africa was a hell of lot different from the one they shipped over there. One forced retirement and a divorce later, I ended up on a crab boat in the Bering Sea for two years, made enough money to buy the bike, and I haven't looked back since, okay?" What the fuck was he doing? He didn't talk to women, not like this! But, maybe it helped her to know this…he needed her to be alright, they had that long ride ahead of them, right? Fuck it, stop babying her already, she should just get over it. He hardened his tone of voice. "That's what you need to do too, Joss. Don't look back!"

But she shook her head, her eyes dark again, looking like she might cry. "What if I can't stop, though?"

Tig wasn't hearing it. "If you want to, you can." He said, taking a quick glance at the fire himself and then looking back at her. "Trust me!"

She didn't seem to be listening though. She was drifting off into some place distant he didn't want to follow her to, but he was. "I should be dead, you know."

"Yeah? Well you almost were." Christ, was she upset about him holding a gun on her? That wasn't something he'd done intentionally.

She took no notice that he spoke at all, fear and anger twisting together over her features in a way he'd never seen before. "My mother left when I was six, I didn't understand why she did that then, but I know now." She was looking at the fire again, talking as if he wasn't even there, and while Tig had no patience to hear this, he for some reason didn't stop her. "It wasn't enough that he had to turn me into his wife, he had to do such sick stuff to me while he was doing it. All the stuff on the walls in my room, all the pageant stuff, the Mensa stuff, he put it there, not me, wanted to be able to look at it all while he was doing me so he could see what a wonderful piece of ass he was having, gave him some kind of superiority rush or something, made him feel like a real man." Joss paused, but her voice was growing angrier the more she spoke, and that was easier for Tig to relate to than the crying, but he felt himself wishing she'd just be quiet. Words hardly ever moved anything inside him anymore, but what Joss was saying just kept turning over and over again in a place that he wished would just go dead inside him. Fuck, why didn't she ever just say her old man was doing this to her? "But that was nothing compared to the other shit he was into. He used to fuck me with the barrels of guns! Shot me once by accident with his twenty-two when I was eight years old, tore me up so badly inside I'll never have kids. The actually thought I'd die, but I wasn't that lucky. He made me say I was 'playing' with the gun." She looked over at Tig again, tears falling down over her cheeks but her eyes were lit with fury. "And no one questioned it. Who believes that shit?"

"Yeah!" No one ever tried to help her? Not even after she almost died from a gunshot wound to her…Tig hadn't realized it, but he'd let out a gasp, closed his eyes and shook his head. He absolutely hated hearing about torturous shit he didn't think of first, and fucking a kid, no, a father fucking his own eight year old daughter with a gun, and then shooting her, was more than even he could fathom. His kids had been younger than eight years when his marriage broke up, and he'd said and done things that had scared them more than a few times, but at least neither Dawn nor Fawn could ever say he'd done half the shit to them that Joss had suffered. Okay, Joss had lived through some serious shit, but he had to snap out of this sympathy thing, act like this was nothing to him, not anything unusual or terrible…but it was…it was. No! Listening to her if she wanted to talk was one thing, but acting all effected by it and concerned, well, that wasn't who he was, and it wasn't who he wanted Joss to start seeing him as. He opened his eyes, slapped himself in the face mentally, but things only got worse. Joss was staring at him with burning green eyes, wanting to forget like he told her she had to, wanting to forget her father, but the bastard was still in front of her, still fucking her, and she didn't know how to make him go away, not yet.

Just then a pocket of blood inside moist flesh on the fire crackled and then exploded, sending bits of tissue across the coals that sizzled as they burned away. Tig felt himself lurch protectively towards Jocelyn at the sound, an overwhelming urge to have his cock as deeply inside her as he could get it coming over him, and before Tig knew it, he was kissing her, but not like he ever had before.

"Lay down," he whispered to her, cock harder than he'd have ever expected with so little sleep. Jocelyn was tired too, he could feel it in her body, but that was not the reason she wasn't resisting him as he leaned into her. She didn't wrap her arms around him though, her lips were all but still against his; she'd clearly taught herself not to even realize anything was happening as soon as a man pushed against her like Tig was doing now. He knew how to change that with patience and gentleness, at least, he did once, and that he wanted to be like that with her now disgusted him more than he could describe. And yet he couldn't stop, his mouth covering both her lips tenderly, coaxing her to open her mouth, to let him in, instead of barging ahead with what he wanted. "He's gone, Joss," Tig whispered, both his hands gently supporting her head and holding her stare level with his. The fire popped again, flesh sizzled; he imagined her father looked on jealously, watching what was once solely his slipping away, forever. Joss was limp, there was no fight in her, but her eyes were wide with fear, betraying her body's indifference. It didn't matter though, abused or not, scared or not, Tig wasn't taking "no" for an answer. "This has got to happen. I'm what has you now."


	5. Drowning

_Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 5

Tara stood at the window between her and the ICU, looking intently on where an unconscious girl lay in a bed, slow to wake from the anesthetic. The CT Scan didn't reveal the best findings, there was significant head trauma. The decision to go ahead with surgery wasn't made lightly. But, there hadn't been much choice, either take the risk of the anesthesia killing this girl, or be cautious about the head injury and let her bleed to death from the broken ribs that had punctured her liver and spleen. The girl's color was better, the bleeding was successfully halted, but she needed to wake up, soon! But who would want to wake up and find themselves in the condition that this girl was in? Her young body was covered with bandages in more places than Tara could really count, and still lacerations and bruises were visible on the parts of the patient's skin still exposed. It was impossible to tell what this girl truly looked like, she was one big injury, but it wasn't actually the patient that Tara had been studying for the last few minutes.

It was against hospital policy to allow visitors in ICU at this stage in a patient's recovery, but the "visitor" that had Tara's attention at the moment had "insisted" otherwise. There was no arguing with him and no stopping him, not even after security had been called; that only resulted in a safety officer needing an X-Ray to diagnose the concussion he received after a vicious punch had been thrown. Tara interjected herself into the scuffle, suggesting that it was easier to make this one allowance than it would be to try to enforce policy. Her superior would likely bitch at her for it later, but what else would be new? Besides, what Tara had been watching was so strange and unexpectedly intriguing. She'd never seen a visitor who was so nervous he couldn't sit still, but at the same time was able to reach out and deftly peel single strands of the patient's long, dark hair out of where it was stuck to the antibiotic ointment on her many less serious scrapes and cuts. He was even speaking softly to the girl in the bed, his eyes shifting around rapidly as if trying to watch every part of her at every moment, but the low, comforting din of his voice was constant, but not loud enough for Tara to hear. She was curious though about his choice of words, strained to try to make out what he said to the girl, so enthralled she didn't even notice someone approached her until he spoke.

"I thought you were off like twenty minutes ago?" Jax couldn't help fixating on what happened on the other side of the ICU window either, but he nonchalantly drank a cup of vending machine coffee. "If you're hanging around to keep an eye on things as a favor for the club, this isn't exactly official business, go home."

Tara glanced at Jax and smiled slightly, reaching down and taking his hand, but her gaze went back to the window again. "I know it's not a SAMCRO thing, technically. I just sort of lost track of time." She said, watching the hand of the unruly visitor gently slip around the hand of the unconscious patient as he finally took a seat in the chair beside the bed. Tara subtly shook her head in disbelief. "Tig," she began, her eyes on how gossamer all of his actions were and had been. "I don't know very much about him."

Jax snorted as he raised the paper cup to his mouth. "You don't want to, believe me!"

She smiled, leaned closer to Jax and understood what he meant. It was out of turn for him to speak negatively of a brother like he'd just done, but Tara knew Jax was right. Tig Trager was not a nice man, but in the last few moments Tara had seen that he could be a good man, when he wanted to be. The question was why. She'd heard that Tig had daughters, was this one of them? "So, I guess Tig hasn't 'fessed up to anything yet, huh?"

Jax grimaced and shook his head, putting his arm around Tara's shoulders. "He swears Butcher hung himself in the tree with the tow chain. At least, that's all he'd say to Unser; still no theories on how Butcher blew both his knees and hands off, or how he cut his dick off and shoved it up his own ass, though." Jax's stare fell on Tig and he sighed, shaking his head again, strands of his long blond hair falling from behind his ear. "Clay's handling the alibi shit right now."

Tara shivered, but then rolled her eyes, choosing to focus on an image tenderer than the state of Aaron Butcher's corpse. "I meant about the girl. Tig seems awfully worried about her."

"Man," Jax sighed and shrugged, giving Tara a 'how about that?' kind of look. "I don't know. It's not like him to beat the shit out of 'em and then drag them to the ER, worrying and fussing over them all night."

"It's kind of sweet, though." Tara smiled, looking up at Jax. "The way he is fussing and worrying, I mean."

Again Jax snorted. "Yeah, 'sweet' the same way it is when you put a live mouse in a snake's cage, and the snake pays no attention to it…but eventually, that mouse is fucked, I guarantee you that!"

Jocelyn was underwater. At least it felt like she was. The sounds around her and the way everything felt on her skin had a very dull, submerged kind of quality to them. Plus she felt like she'd sunk, all the way to the bottom of a deep pool or a lake or something, with no control of herself, at the mercy of what surrounded her only. Some of the drugs Butcher forced her to swallow made her feel like this too, but there was always a bleakness attached to the feeling of submersion then, and it felt different this time. She remembered pain, but nothing hurt her now, there was only a very distinct memory of feeling like she was being torn open.

"Come on," Tig's voice, he was gasping, his mouth millimeters from hers, she could taste his breath as her tense body struggled for air. He took a deep breath, got up on his knees a little more, one arm wrapped firmly around the small of her back, pulling her even more onto his huge cock as he braced himself against the wall behind the futon with his other hand. "I know it hurts, but it ain't over yet, baby."

This wasn't happening now. But it was. Joss knew it was just a vivid memory, amplified by whatever was making her feel so shrouded by deep water. She remembered everything, her father's remains crackling away in the fire, the rancid stench of burning flesh and also the smell of bleach that clung to her. She preferred not to think of the smell on Tig's skin and in his hair, but it reminded her of the odor she'd often noticed when she'd been in one of those butcher shops that was attached directly to a slaughterhouse. She hadn't slept all night, had felt so numb to everything, but now it seemed like she felt everything, and it was all pain. She'd been putting her mouth on Tig's big dick for weeks now, she was well acquainted with how endowed he was, so the torture of having it shoved into her for the very first time was no surprise. It hurt, it hurt so badly! Her body wasn't long enough to hold all of him, but he jammed himself in harder and harder until the pressure of something so big inside her made her hurt up to her kidneys and she felt nauseous. He could barely move, kept telling her to "relax" and to "loosen up," but she couldn't, his width all but exceeded hers, and he was wedged into her tighter than she could have ever imagined. Every thrust was friction filled, burning, anguish and tears streamed from Joss's eyes, but she kept silent. Tig was fucking her, and she'd wanted it for so long! He was hurting her, there was no physical pleasure in this for her the way there was for him, but Joss craved this agony. She needed to feel Tig ripping into her, cracking her wide open and thrashing all memories of her father out of her, out of her from everywhere. The pain, the searing burning pain that consumed not just her breached passage, but her body from ribs to knees, was like a baptism; a renewal of purity that washed her clean again in her own blood, a flame that destroyed the memory and essence being her father's whore. It hurt, it was terrible the way it hurt, but the more it hurt, the more free Joss felt herself becoming, and she wrapped her arms and legs around Tig and begged him for more.

Tig's body heaved forward against hers at her request and he slammed himself deeper than before, his hand suddenly between them, fingers furiously rubbing at her pummeled clitoris. Joss felt nothing, but something made her body yield a bit more lubrication, or perhaps it was blood? It didn't matter, for as soon as it happened, Tig was taking severe advantage of it, fucking her hard and fast, beating her tight muscles into submission until even her head pounded with each of his sharp, deep thrusts. Faster, harder, he only seemed to get stronger and bigger inside her, he grunted now with each drive, his need for release seeming to turn him into a madman who could never be as deep inside her as he wanted to be. Joss felt herself lifted off of the futon with some of his strokes, only to be slammed back down again when he'd burry his big cock nearly to his balls. She couldn't take anymore, the pain and the punishment making her head spin, Tig above her, inside her, taking all of her, ripping it apart and rebuilding her as his. She wanted to be his, couldn't help screaming his name at the top of her lungs, though it only came out as a murmur. Tig breathed heavier and faster, his voice a hot whisper in her ear, "Tell me you love me," but Joss couldn't answer, couldn't even breathe any longer because of the pain. She tucked her face against his neck, tried to hold him a little tighter in her arms, and passed out.

The urge for a cigarette had been gnawing at him for over an hour, but in the ICU was the last place he'd be able to get away with lighting up, and Tig wasn't about to leave his post. He'd allowed his thoughts to run freely tonight, well, no, he hadn't actually been able to attempt to filter them, and or kick himself in the ass for thinking certain things, the way he usually did when he thought about Joss. He'd feel humiliated and vulnerable when he realized the things that bloomed unabashedly in his head tonight, and he prayed to, well, to whoever would give him the strength to not start acting out those thoughts. He didn't love this girl. She loved him, for whatever sick reason Joss had for doing so. He'd seen her maybe four times over the last two years, and never was it because he'd gone looking for her. She looked for him, all the time, even when he told her not to. She let him use her, fuck her, in however many ways he wanted to, for as long as he wanted to, she was like any other little hangaround handing out free pussy. Tonight was no different, except of course he stepped in to take care of her Butcher problem…just like he was there for her with her father problem. Fuck! Why did he keep doing this? And when she did show up looking for him, why in hell couldn't he haul ass out of wherever they were without talking to her?

Something moved out of the corner of Tig's eye, breaking him out of the comforting mental harangue. Had Joss moved? Did she blink? No. It was just the flashing light on one of the monitors…again. Tara said if Jocelyn didn't wake up within three hours then it was likely not a good sign. What time was it? How long had it been? Tig glanced at the clock over the nurse's station; it had been just over two hours. He looked back at Joss, still unconscious, and gave the palm of her hand a stroke with the fingers of his own where he held it. "C'mon Joss, you got a time limit, you know. You don't wake up, then Butcher wins, don't let that happen."

Jesus fucking Christ, was he some kind of Coma Coach now? For two years she'd been doing this shit to him, coming around, making him think about things he knew were bullshit, making him think he was something he wasn't. Even worse this time was that it was all in front of the club. He hadn't wanted it that way, hadn't enlisted the aid of any of his brothers when he'd gone out to wait for Butcher in the dark at the hotel. But as soon as Tig found himself in handcuffs and charged with Aaron Butcher's murder, he knew the club was involved, they'd all turn out, and they'd see the crazy shit he just couldn't suppress whenever Joss was around him. Poison, that's what she was! But no more! Nope! She'd managed to unravel him in front of the club this time, had him standing there with Clay and everyone else in the ER Triage Unit, screaming things like "I don't care how sick any of these other motherfuckers in here are, she's next!" while he cradled her lifeless body in his arms. How'd she'd fucking do these things to him? What? Was she some kind of beauty queen, genius, witch or something? It didn't matter anymore though, because after tonight, that was it, she was out of his life! He'd wait around for her to wake up, and then he walked away, and would keep on walking. Yeah, she just had to fucking wake up first. Oh God, she had to wake up!

Fuck! Double Fuck! There he went again! Every time Tig thought he got out of it, he found himself right back in again! He was going to lose his mind this way, for real, not in the way that everyone always said he already had lost his mind. It was still there…most of it, anyway. But Joss…she just got all up inside of him and made him feel all…Oh no, he wasn't going there! He just had to work harder at tearing her out of that place she was in, but she was in there pretty deep, and Tig knew it. He hated it, but he knew it. Fuck! He was likely stuck with her forever. Forever. "Joss," he heard himself talking again as he gave her hand a squeeze and he was afraid of what the next words he'd say might be, even though she likely couldn't hear him. "I said I wouldn't let him kill you, so wake up, Ok?"

But what if he had let Butcher kill her? Yeah, she was still alive, but if she didn't wake up in forty more minutes, it was likely that he'd let Butcher kill her. Tig could tell by how Butcher's bike rumbled down the gravel road towards the hotel that something was out of the ordinary. He had a suspicion of what the reason behind the huffing engine noise was, but part of him just didn't want to believe it. But he'd been in the life too long to fool himself, and from the darkness of the nearby trees, Tig watched Butcher's bike rumble passed, with only Butcher on it. Hooked to the bike's chassis was a tow chain, stretched taut, and at the end of that chain was Jocelyn, a torn up, bloody fucking mess. From then on, Tig lost control, but the viciousness that made him Tig remained, sharper than ever. It was like blacking out, suddenly coming to with Butcher choking out and kicking his last in the tree, the tow chain about dislocating his head from his big, fat body. And then there was Joss…

It wasn't the worst dragging Tig had ever seen, or even been part of, but he swore and moved to action like it was. He'd seen hangarounds and old ladies punished and executed like this several times, one girl was actually chained between two bikes and torn apart. Luckily, Butcher rode alone, no brothers to make that possible. Fuck, he'd tried so hard to keep Joss away from this life, away from the brutality of shit like this! She was a nice girl, a nice girl who loved him, she was his, and she didn't deserve this. But Tig knew why she'd been dragged. Yeah, when she did show up looking for him, why in hell couldn't he haul ass out of wherever they were without talking to her? Yeah, if Joss didn't open her eyes in a thirty minutes, in twenty minutes, in ten minutes, he'd let Butcher kill her.


	6. Life After Life

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

_Note: Racial epithets are never okay. This is a work of fiction, so please, in real life, let's all love and respect each other! Life's too short! Thanks!_

Chapter 6

Where he was going wasn't very far away from where he'd parked his bike, there was no reason to be pulling his boots up and fidgeting with his socks as if he were about to depart on a miles long trek. But Tig was slow to move; maybe he'd parked too close to the spot? Having some distance to walk, to be alone with his thoughts before he was right there, and it was in his face full force might have been better than this. Oh come on, he could do this! In the life he'd lead, it wasn't exactly the first time he'd faced something like this. It's just that it was Jocelyn this time, and he never expected it.

Okay, he didn't like it, this isn't what he wanted, not at all; he hated feeling what he was feeling, but then, feeling anything really wasn't something Tig wanted, ever. But he could do it, and he must have wanted to, otherwise he would have just blown it off, and he wouldn't be here right now. And it wasn't like he was alone, Clay and Gemma, they were with him on this, that was obvious. As soon as he'd opened up about Jocelyn to Clay, their support was instantaneous. If not for the generosity of Clay and Gemma, none of this would have been possible, as terrible as it still felt. Might as well get it over with now that he was here; the sooner the better, and then it was back to normal, right? Hmm, and what was "normal" now?

On the other hand, it wasn't like Joss was going anywhere now, he could take his time, turn around and go back to his dorm in the clubhouse and get drunk again, wait a few more days, a few more weeks, months, years…she'd still be there. There couldn't have been a better day for it though; the sky was truly azure, with big puffy white clouds, a gentle breeze that he could envision weaving through Joss's long, wavy, dark hair and lifting it on the air like the wings of a bird. Fly away, he thought, fly away.

Awww, Fuck! The darkened lenses of his sunglasses were starting to steam up, but removing them to wipe them off on his shirt would risk exposing the moisture at the corners of his eyes to anyone who may be watching. Damn that girl! He'd tried so hard to keep her safe, did everything he knew how to do or could think of, left her with her aunt the first time, but it was apparent she wouldn't stay away from bars and bikers, and why? Because she wanted him, she'd never stop looking for him. If Tig couldn't keep her from her constant search, then maybe he could at least protect her in it, crudely branding her with his initials, hoping the mark would put off any man who saw it. She was taken, she was property of Alex "Tig" Trager, even though she wasn't with him. He had no idea how or why she'd let herself get in with Butcher the way she had, but the fact that Butcher wasn't impressed with the mark low on her left hip wasn't a surprise. Butcher must have mentioned a connection to the Sons, or said something that indicated he was going to Charming, and Joss could only think of one thing; finding him. Jesus Christ, she was so fucking stupid for such a smart girl! And Jesus Christ, did that girl love him!

Ultimately, and Tig hated to admit it, that's why he was here. That's why he couldn't just blow it off. Love. Love fucking sucked! But the longer he sat here putting it off, the more obvious his tears were becoming. God fucking damn it! He took a deep breath and snapped to attention as if he were still wearing the uniform of a United States soldier, grabbed the bunch of flowers from where he'd secured them under bungee cords on the back of his bike with a swift jerk, and started walking. How did this happen? It was such a stupid and annoying question to have continuously echoing in his head, he was well versed in all that had lead up to this moment, but still, how did he ever end up where he was going now?

Honestly, the lynch pin that made his old life crumble, but held this life together was a five or six year old kid, and none of it had anything to do with Joss.

"He's Habr Gidr! He's Habr Gidr!" The screams of Langley still haunted Tig in dreams, and he was still just as paralyzed then as he had been when it all went down in Mogadishu. "Trager, fucking shoot the little nig-" but before Langley could finish, the child that had suddenly discovered their squadron turned and started to run off.

"Hey!" Tig yelled at the scared kid, shouldering his rifle, but all he could remember was how round and brown the boy's eyes were, so afraid of what he'd discovered in the burned out hotel. He wasn't snooping, not spying; he was just a little kid, a little boy, holding two empty water buckets, trying to get through life in his war torn home. Maybe he was Habr Gidr, and maybe his father, his uncle, his older brother was carrying a gun for Aidid, but shoot a child? Kill a child? Tig, Alex then, couldn't do it. Christ, he had kids of his own around that age, and his girls would have been just as wide eyed and terror stricken had they been walking down a street they knew well and were suddenly confronted by a squad of enemy soldiers they didn't mean to encounter. But if his girls had suffered such a misfortune, Alex also knew they'd run home to their father, and tell him how many soldiers they'd seen, where they were, what kind of guns they had…they'd give him all the details, like good children did. Good children. Dead soldiers.

"Hey!" Alex yelled again, louder this time, felt his voice in his gut he'd yelled so loud, but the kid didn't stop, just dropped the empty water containers and kept running, back towards enemy lines.

"Shoot him!" Langley roared, trying to get to his feet, but the gunshot wound in his leg wouldn't let him stand. "Shoot him, or we're all dead!"

The skinny little body was in Alex's sights, long arms and legs pumping as the kid ran madly, his back to Alex's gun, crosshairs square between little shoulder blades, and all of sudden, his gun went off…and the Army awarded him a Bronze Star. The world just didn't make sense after that.

No one knew that. Not the wife he'd divorced, not the daughters he'd walked out on. Not Clay, not Gemma, not any of his brothers. But he'd told Joss once, not too long after what they did to her father. Why he'd told her had always haunted him, and those reasons bombarded him tenfold now. Shit, there was just no stopping it anymore. Everything he'd always refused to feel for Joss was combining and beginning to rage with hurricane force inside him. He stopped walking for a moment, closed his eyes against the torrent inside him and prayed that it would stop, but tears were already brimming in his eyes. He'd fought this for so long, the most exhausting struggle he'd ever been faced with, and finally he was losing, down for the count…and scared to death.

"Hey," Tig had been so fucked up by emotional shit to even notice that Clay was present and had been walking towards him, but he could tell from the inflection in Clay's voice that he must have looked peculiar standing there the way he was…and then Tig realized he'd dropped down to his knees…fuck! "You, uh, okay?"

"Yeah," slowly he got to his feet again, feeling so ashamed and looking for something to blame his actions on. "You know, just a little too much a little too late last night, that's all."

Clay nodded, but Tig could tell he sort of knew what it was really about. Thankfully, Clay didn't try to dissect it. "I'll be back in a minute, but go on in, Gemma's there."

Tig nodded, but he wasn't ready to do that, not just yet, and now he could stall with Clay a little longer. "I, uh, been meaning to tell you, I found a place. The clubhouse just isn't going to work for me anymore. Whatever's left in there of mine, don't worry about it, I don't need it anymore."

Again Clay nodded. "That's understandable, change is good sometimes, particularly at a time like this." He mused, then looked at Tig again. "You need some help?"

Tig sighed and shook his head, but his answer betrayed the motion. "Yeah."

Clay's hand went to his back pocket. "How much?"

Tig grimaced, "No, it ain't the money, man." He nearly said more than that, but something in his besieged brain finally made him shut the fuck up.

"Ah," Clay's voice softened and was followed by a few awkward seconds of silence while he clearly searched for something to say that wasn't piteous. Then his hand came up and patted Tig's shoulder. "Look, I know how you feel, but sometimes things work out better than you think they're going to. You just gotta give them a chance to."

"Yeah," Tig couldn't hide the doubt in his voice, now feeling like he didn't have the energy to talk to Clay any longer, but nor was he ready to go on. "You just gotta hope you ain't outta chances is more like it." He started to walk again, hearing that Clay said something encouraging, but what it was Tig couldn't really hear anymore, or chose not to. He just kept walking, up the narrow sidewalk, passed all the rows of neatly weeded flowers that all looked superior to the ones he clutched. Chances; realistically, he only had one more. He hated that he felt it, he hated that he was acknowledging feeling it, but he wanted to be with Joss, he knew that now. That epiphany had been beating the hell out of him for the last few days, and finally it had beaten him into submission. And there was only one way to be with her, only one more chance.


	7. Just Do It

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 7; Part 1

The door opened much faster than Tig wanted it too, standing there trying to get himself together, hoping the tears were more dry on his face than they felt like they were, wishing that the now bedraggled flowers he held would somehow perk up a little. Shit, he didn't even know what kind they were, had no clue what to even buy for something like this, just grabbed the first bunch of brightly colored variety he came to. At least he'd remembered the blue button down shirt though, faded and tattered at the cuffs though it was. But Joss had said once she liked him in this shirt…at least, he thought it was this shirt. Fuck! Everything about his body language, appearance and demeanor spoke of how unprepared for any of this he was. But here he went, headlong into it. One more chance.

"Tigger," Gemma smiled and kind of sighed, her hand leaving the handle of the house door and now opening the storm door. She didn't need to say anything to imply that he'd been expected much earlier than this, that woman's eyes and expressions spoke more than Billy Graham could articulate verbally. But she also didn't harp on it, just opened the door, her smile broadening. "Come on in, please."

"Yeah, thanks," Gemma, with her aggressive confidence and the way she wore a pair of jeans, had always made him feel a little quivery in the pit of his stomach, but now it was for a different reason. Tig felt like he needed to apologize, or at the very least, to explain himself, but where did he start? "I brought some flowers…but they're not as nice as yours are." He said nervously, turning briefly to indicate the rows of Golden Poppy's in Gemma's front flowerbed.

"Oh," Gemma smiled again, but her tone and stare still had that 'you know you fucked up' quality to them that dug into Tig more than ever. He wasn't usually the one Gemma directed that tone at, if anything, she talked to him more like he was some vicious attack dog that she knew liked to have his belly rubbed. That was their usual rapport and Tig liked it, but he'd known not to expect it today. "They're fine, stop being so obsessive!" She cocked her head and relaxed her stare in a motherly way when she said it, willing Tig to settle down, even though she'd been disappointed in him.

"So," this situation was feeling so ridiculous, they both knew why he was here, but getting to it seemed like trying to cross a raging ocean. He'd decided that he wanted to do this, so why did he still not want to do this so much at the same time? But he'd driven over here, he'd come into the house, he'd put on what he hoped was the right shirt; he'd even bought the shitty flowers! He must have wanted to do this more than he didn't want to do it. Tig sighed, what did he say now? He was in Clay and Gemma's house; he couldn't just wander off to Jax's old room when Gemma wasn't looking. Too bad, because that would have made this seem a little more clandestine, like he was sneaking around to do it and no one would find out about it. But Gemma knew, and Clay knew. The only one who didn't know was Joss, but then, how could she know? Tig became aware that Gemma's stare was becoming more expectant, yeah, she knew why he was here, finally, and he'd better fucking get to it, too! Still, this was such an odd feeling! If this didn't go well, Gemma would know. If this did go well, Gemma would know. He wasn't sure which one would be worse. Tig sighed, hoped he could just hold it together, no more tears. "Can I see her?"

The corners of Gemma's mouth turned up into a nearly smug smile as she crossed her hands over her chest and sort of sighed. "She's awake, just finished lunch," she said as if she were flipping through some imaginary appointment book, trying to schedule Tig's visit. But then her smile broadened again, her voice softening along with it. "Go ahead, I really think she'd like that; down the hall, second door on the left."

Tig stood nodding, his knees bending slightly, but he was so scared his feet wouldn't move. Gemma must have noticed, because she stepped closer to him, put her hand on his shoulder and leaned towards his ear, her voice a soft, but serious, matriarchal whisper. "If you can do half the shit you've done for this club, then you can do this."

Chapter 7; Part 2

In the last two years Jocelyn was used to being shifted around, passed around, one time even sleeping under an overturned, smelly old couch that someone had dumped in an alleyway. She didn't care where she found herself, it only mattered where she was going, Tig. This current reunion with him hadn't worked out quite as well as she'd figured it might; she'd found him, had contact with him, from what she'd heard, she'd had more of his attention than she'd ever gotten before, but then two weeks passed, and he was nowhere to be found. But she knew she had him to thank for her current accommodations, which were the best she'd had in such a long time. Except for Tig, it seemed like everyone in her life was a complete stranger, and she'd been so beat up and felt so much not like herself that it had been difficult the feel the usual unease that would have been there had she suddenly found herself staying with and being taken care of by people she'd never even heard of before.

The first time she'd ever seen Gemma Teller-Morrow was the day she was to be released from Saint Thomas Hospital. Joss had no idea where she'd go, she had a broken foot, a broken leg, a broken arm, was recovering from surgery and still a bit woozy from the concussion. Plus, she had nothing and nowhere to go. She'd hoped Tig would do…well, something, but she also knew not to expect it. He wasn't exactly a nurturer. And, he wasn't even exactly around ever since she'd regained consciousness. Her eyes had opened, and he was there, though. He looked like shit, exhausted, emotionally wrung out, his eyes red, hair a wild mess, a nervous and confused smile on his face that made him look a little more crazy than he usually did.

"Joss!" She knew he'd been holding her hand, because now he dropped it. "Joss, c'mon, don't close your eyes again, look at me!" She'd never heard his voice sound quite as desperate as it did then, it scared her. "Look at me!" He said again, this time louder and sterner. Whenever things were really bad, that's what he said to her, "focus," "get it together," "look at me;" it was a command she couldn't refuse.

Her eyes gradually remembered how to open up all the way. She had no idea where she was or why she felt so out of it. The last thing she remembered facing was Butcher, who was making clear his suspicions about what she'd gone outside with SAMCRO's Sergeant At Arms for, and she knew she was in danger, a lot of danger. It was too exhausting to try to remember and try to piece it together now. Tig was there though, and he was telling her to do something, something not as difficult as remembering was right now, so she turned her head towards him and focused on Tig…but there were a series of silver bars that separated her from him. What the fuck?

"You're in a cage," her voice was clear in her head, but she could hear how muffled and raspy it actually sounded. Her throat hurt as if something had been jammed down it. She wanted some water so badly.

Tig's eyebrows furrowed and he looked not just puzzled but gravely concerned, his crystal blue eyes glancing quickly at the swollen lump she was beginning to feel on her head, his lips quietly murmuring something panicked that had sounded like, "Fuck! Please Joss, don't be a fucking retard!" But then, without any explanation at all, he smiled this weird kind of warm, amused, relieved smile that Joss couldn't ever remember seeing on his face before. He reached out and grabbed the top bar of the cage, clicked something near the bottom, and folded it down. No more cage. "I'm right here, baby," he said, taking her hand again as Joss began to realize that she was in a hospital bed, and that she'd been looking at Tig through the bars of the safety rail. But that warm, relieved smile on his face was short lived. Just as it became a comforting site, it was gone, and he seemed anxious, and uncomfortable to have ever let it get there in the first place. The sole of his boot began to quietly squeak against the linoleum tiles as his right knee began to subtly bounce nervously. He let go of her hand again like he'd suddenly been reminded he was holding it, and that he shouldn't have been. "They, uh," he began, but stopped, rolled his eyes and exhaled sharply as if he had nothing to say to her or didn't really want to talk to her. "Look, I did what I could to stop them, okay? But, they took out your spleen."

Butcher took out her spleen? That was some kind of new One-Percenter punishment Joss had never heard of! She tried to get things to make sense, but they just wouldn't, her mind lay there lifeless in her head, seeming to only roll over slowly if she poked at it with a stick. She had so many questions, but she just couldn't get to the good ones. "Do you know where it is?"

She saw a look of surprised relief flash over Tig's face like he hadn't expected her to somehow give him the exit he was trying to formulate on his own. He stood, quickly, his eyes already on the doorway leading out of the ICU. "I can go check," he said, and Joss hadn't seen him since then.

For five days Joss lay in her hospital bed in her hospital room, void of the usual types of "Get Well" cheer she could see in the rooms of other patients across the hall; no flowers, no balloons, no fruit baskets, no visitors. Well, that wasn't entirely true, Dr. Knowles had taken an extra interest in her case, and often times when she came into check Joss's charts or meds or whatever, she'd stay for a few minutes and chat. Twice Dr. Knowles had shown up just when her shift had ended, and with her was her boyfriend, a good looking blond guy in his thirties, sporting an SOA cut with the rank of "Vice President" sewn onto it. He'd introduced himself as Jax and seemed nice enough, but he asked a lot of questions that made Joss think before answering them. Jax always wanted to know how she knew Tig, how long she'd known him, what the situation was between them. It seemed like innocent and normal curiosity, and Jax was obviously on of Tig's brothers, but Tig had told her many times that "rats were everywhere," and Joss wasn't about to say anything that could damn him to or for…whatever. All in all though, she had to admit she liked Dr. Knowles, or Tara as she'd said to call her when she was off work. And she liked Jax too, their visits were much looked forward to, but mostly Jocelyn hoped that Tig would reappear, but she knew he wouldn't. It was all she thought about until Dr. Knowles came in smiling one day as if she had good news to share, and told Jocelyn that she was free to go home. Home? Where was that now? As she lay there wondering where she could go, and how she could get there, Gemma suddenly appeared in the doorway of her hospital room.

Gemma was wearing tight medium faded jeans, heeled boots, a V-neck plum colored top that belted in around her narrow waist, and a short leather jacket. It all reminded Joss of the basics she was lacking; all she had was the hospital gown she wore. Gemma also had gold hoop earrings on and a few small pendants on chains around her neck, but one stood out from the others. It was a gold cross, shinier and newer looking than the other jewelry she wore. Jocelyn would have described her overall look as some kind of trashy sophistication, edgy enough that Joss could tell that she was connected to the MC, but that it definitely was as someone who was well respected by all. That's what Joss wanted, and she wondered if she could ever be the way Gemma Teller-Morrow was.

"Jocelyn, I'm Gemma. I'm a very good friend of Tig's." Her expertly shadowed eyes looked at Joss with motherly sympathy, but there was a tinge of annoyance in her voice as she reached behind her to drag a wheelchair into the room with one manicured hand. She sighed objectionably. "I know this is all very strange, but, Tig asked if my husband, Clay, and I could give you a place to stay until you're more healed up, so…let's get on the road."

Obviously, Gemma wasn't thrilled at the idea of having a complete stranger, who would need a lot of assistance, a lot of everything really, at her house. Joss couldn't blame her, but she also couldn't refuse her. She could tell that Gemma was a woman who saw to it that those closest to her were taken care of, but she was all tough love. But, Tig had set this arrangement up for her? Okay, Joss could at least trust that she was going to a good place with good people. Tig would never admit it, but he always tried so diligently to leave her in a better state than the one he found her in. Joss just never stayed there like he always told her to. This would probably not be as bad as Joss was anticipating, but she wished Tig would come back, she wished he'd been the one to tell her about where she was going and who she'd be staying with. Maybe Gemma would have been less aggravated by it all if Tig had stepped up and did just that, instead of making her the bearer of awkward kindness. Or, maybe Gemma just was that way? That new gold cross around her neck, perhaps she was some newly Born-Again biker babe, who was doing what the good book directed, though she wasn't quite feeling it? It didn't matter, and it didn't change a thing either way. Joss was going home, with Gemma.


	8. RIP

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 8

"So did you ever find it?" It was so hard thinking of something to say, and it had never been that way before, not even the first time they'd met. But something was wrong with him today. Jocelyn had never seen Tig pace like he was right now, she'd never seen him chew at his fingernails, he'd never given her flowers, and he'd never been so eerily distant. There was a look in his clear, blue eyes that wasn't so clear; what the hell? Did he take Meth before he got here?

"What?" He stopped pacing long enough to look at her with annoyed confusion, so seemingly irritated by all his surroundings, but it wasn't anger that Joss could see being provoked. So what was it?

"My spleen," she said, had meant to smile when she said it to try and lighten whatever the mood was that was permeating the room, but it just didn't happen. She couldn't help but feel a little pissed that he'd run out on her for two weeks, dumping her with strangers, and then avoiding every opportunity to visit her, or even fucking call her. Her understanding of what was happening when she first awoke in the hospital was more than hazy, but she knew she'd felt that something was transpiring then, that something had changed between them. She hated that Tig had given her that impression, that he'd in an unintended way, encouraged her to get her hopes up, and then, gone, nothing, no words, no actions, no explanations. But, she knew well not to even go there, particularly not today, something was wrong with him, big time!

"Oh," that was it, no other answer, not even much of a reaction. Tig stood looking all around the room now, looking at everything that wasn't her. "So you got your own TV in here?" He said, his tone suddenly sounding like he was discussing a new household purchase with a neighbor over the garden wall. Joss wanted to stand up, to get in his face and make him look at her, make him have to show her some kind of…something, but with the soft-cast on her broken right foot, and the hard-cast that came above her left knee, standing wasn't possible, and neither was getting out of his way quickly if the situation should abruptly call for it.

"Yeah," she answered, staring at him and wondering what he'd say next and who he'd be next. "Clay moved it in here for me, but I think that was mostly because he wanted someone to play Wii with him. I guess I'm the perfect opponent because I'm not so great with my left hand, so he wins all the time." Joss held up her right arm which bore a cast from her knuckles to her elbow, and this time she did smile a bit, but mostly because the tradition of nightly video games with Clay were usually a laugh riot that even Gemma came in to be a spectator for.

Tig nodded, but once more there was hardly any reaction from him. "Whose shirt is that?" He asked next, pointing to the oversized, faded SOA t-shirt she wore that came down almost to her knees.

"I don't know," for some reason Joss felt a need to try to pull the black knit cotton further down her legs. It was all she wore, she didn't have very many clothes, and if it hadn't been for Gemma picking her up some necessities like underwear and bras, and Tara bringing over a few things she no longer wore, Joss would have had even less. Why was Tig asking about the shirt? It was his own club's insignia, for crying out loud! Something was building in him, an outburst was coming, Joss could feel it, but she still couldn't tell just how it would all go down. "I guess it's Clay's, maybe Jax's."

Tig nodded. Again with the fucking nodding! It was all making Joss tense. Tig had always been unpredictable, but this time it was putting her on edge too. He still wouldn't even look at her, now picking at a tiny piece of leather that peeled out of the braid of his wrist cuff. "Butcher's dead." There was zero emotion in his voice, but he stopped pacing and poured his six foot two inch frame into the wheeled office chair at Jax's old desk.

"I know." Everything about this situation told Joss to tread lightly, be observant, don't do or say anything that might set him off. "Thank you?"

Tig kept his attention on that stupid little piece of leather, but pursed his lips and once more his head nodded. But then, all of a sudden, and it was only for a split second, he actually looked at her. "You love him?"

"Are you fucking serious?" Oh no, that couldn't be what his mysterious mood was about! That was way too easy. "I'm going to love someone I was traded to for a broke down, rusted through '92 Softail Springer?"

He glanced at her again, still fidgeting, still monotone everything. "Nice bike."

What the hell did that mean? That she wasn't worth much to him, or anyone else? If he thought so little of her, and he didn't want to be here, why the hell had he come? Joss's attitude suddenly jumped the fence of carefulness that she'd been trying so hard to stay on the good side of and she sighed in exasperation, her green eyes narrowing to angry slits. "What is with you?"

His head jerked up this time and he stared at her with a lost, half angry, half melancholy expression. "You really wanna know?"

The question was part challenge and he sounded as though he really wanted her to shut up, but Joss, even though she knew better, bowed up and glared back at him. Why was it that whenever she wanted or needed to see him the most, and he finally showed up, his attitude was always shit? "Make it good!"

The faint outline of the oddest smile formed on his lips and she couldn't tell for certain if she were in trouble or not. "It's you."

Joss felt her blood go icy, she hadn't expected that answer and wasn't sure what it meant. Was he angry? Was he apologetic? Was he horny? His eyes, his voice, nothing held any context or clues. She stared back at him, waiting for him to continue, because, he'd have to explain himself, right? She kept her eyes on him, waiting for him to speak, hoping he'd speak, but as she watched him, she could see something that both shocked and frightened her more than anything had in a long time. A tear was slowly falling from his right eye and easily, slowly, rolling down over his cheekbone, the gentle caress so vastly opposite everything else being felt in the room. She could tell Tig tried to hide it, wiped at it under the guise of some suddenly occurring itch to scratch, but he couldn't hide the way the plastic frame of the chair he sat in began to rattle under the trembling of his body. Joss had never seen him like this before; she didn't know what quite to do. She only wished he'd stop. All she could think of was the horses she used to ride. She'd always loved horses, rode better than most people at the stables, soaked up every bit of equine knowledge that was available to her, the most important of which was how horses learned to see the humans working with them as their herd leaders and respected them as such. She'd always been careful to be calm and positive around a horse, because the animal could feel her attitude and would mimic it. If she were having a bad day, if she was angry or nervous or hesitant, then so was the horse, and that's when trouble would occur. Such was the safety mechanism of the herd, always be tuned into the leader, and always automatically know when to run for your life. She still didn't understand what was happening, but Joss felt like she should be running; if Tig was scared then she should be terrified! She felt cold, her breathing shallow. "Tig?"

He must have noticed the rattling of the chair and he suddenly and sharply slammed his hand against the back support with a loud bang that made Joss blink involuntarily. She was even tenser now, afraid to keep watching him, for he just seemed to be unraveling more and more. Where did this end, and how? "Do you know what you put me through?" His voice was surprisingly soft for as rough as his actions with the chair had been. "Do you even know what you do to me?" Tig looked at her again briefly then fidgeted with his sunglasses in his shirt pocket as though he was contemplating slipping them on, trying to hide behind them. What was he hiding? Joss was too startled to answer, but her silence hadn't been the desired response either. "Do you?" he bit out, his voice like a hand that jerked her to attention.

Whatever was happening, it was just getting worse. She had to keep blinking so tears didn't start to seep into the corners of her eyes. "No," Joss answered, getting the impression that Tig didn't have very much control of what he was saying or doing at the present moment. She had to find a way to make this better, to steady him; be submissive, but don't show weakness. Weakness would bring disaster. "I'm sorry."

He laughed, but not a good laugh, not a laugh like the ice was broken and things would get better, but a laugh like he was completely at the end of his rope. She was horrified to see even more tears in his eyes, so many that Tig couldn't play them off as anything but what they were anymore, and both his hands rubbed them away. "Ain't no one sorrier than I am, little girl." He spoke with a warped smile on his face and his eyes closed, but all of sudden they opened again and there was nothing but a seething anger and frustration shining out at her in them, as though she'd chained him to a wall and held him prisoner for some detestable amount of time. He sat forward in the chair just slightly, stopping suddenly like he was fighting to hold himself back. "I fucking hate what you do to me, Joss!" He wasn't yelling, not quite, but it was more intense than just getting something off his chest. Whatever this was exactly, Joss knew it had been building for a long time, and there was nothing she could say that was going to make it better or make it stop. She just hoped she was going to be strong enough to hear what he was going to say, because it was obvious that Tig was going to say it, all of it.

"I never meant—" Why she had bothered to speak Joss wasn't sure, but it didn't last long anyway.

"Shhh!" Tig hushed her immediately with raised hands that quickly clenched into fists. "Just…don't!" He advised her, sounding more irritated than before. He shook his head and ran one hand through his dark hair, eyes wild. "I don't know what it is about you that makes me not able to walk away, but it's something, and I can't God Damn deal with it anymore! For days I've been thinking what I can do about this, about you, but you never give me a fucking chance to get away from this," Tig rapidly moved his index finger back and forth between the two of them. He was talking quickly, his voice harsh and disgusted, but he still wasn't yelling. It was alarming and only scared Joss more and more. She'd feel better if he just yelled, if he punched a wall, if he did something that would indicate an endpoint to this tirade. "You're always fucking there, even you're not, Joss! And there's only one thing I can think to do about it, and I don't even wanna fucking do it, but you're making me have to, because I don't know what else to fucking do!"

Oh God! It all clicked, every little last one of his distracted and irritated movements, every last nervous and accusatory word, the reason he hadn't come around for two weeks, the fitful tears. He'd said it plainly, he couldn't take it anymore. Tig was going to kill her! Jocelyn's heart began to pound, more scared than she thought she'd be, but the amount of hurt she felt overpowered her fear. She loved him! She'd been so certain that things were finally going to change between them! She knew what she felt when she woke up in the ICU, and she hadn't been the only one to notice, because Gemma had seconded a lot of what Joss's foggy memory held of Tig's actions that night Butcher had dragged her nearly to death. Maybe something had changed between them, and that's what had pushed Tig to make this sinister decision. She'd never expected Tig would take well to being in love, and maybe this was the only way he could handle it. It was horrendous, but it didn't change anything. He'd killed Butcher for her, he'd rushed her to the hospital and saved her life, he'd left her in the care of trusted friends, but those were all temporary solutions until he could think of a more permanent one, and now he had. Kill her, be free of all the things he'd said she made him feel, and finally be free of her. She'd always known he'd wanted that. But, she loved Tig! She'd only ever wanted to be with him, he'd been her confidant, her partner in literal crime, her mentor, her protector and her lover. She loved him, now and always! Joss wished she could say her execution was undeserved, but she knew what she was messing with in Tig Trager, it was always a very real possibility that it would end like this. The flowers…nice touch, for her shallow grave no doubt. She was so petrified she couldn't move, couldn't even call out for Gemma, though the voice inside her head screamed for her to do so.

Tig took no notice of what his words did to her, but then, why did it matter to him? She only had one good arm, and even if Joss had use of all her appendages, she was no match for him, would never get away from him. What was decided was decided and what was going to happen was going to happen. Her fight was fought, she loved Tig Trager, and he'd proven to be every bit Tig Trager. He couldn't have been more faithful than that. Joss's weepy green eyes fell to Tig's belt, but she saw no holster, no gun…it would be the knife then…Tig always had a knife. As she sat in quiet panic, contemplating her slow, bloody good bye to the man she loved, Tig sat back in the chair, looking oddly more relaxed. "I just fucking hate what you're making me do, Joss." The harshness in his voice was beginning to lessen, and he was sounding more in control of himself, his tears had stopped and he was able to look her in the eyes, "because it all scares the shit outta me."


	9. Crazy Love

_Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 9

Joss heard heavy footsteps coming towards the room that had come to be called "hers," and she looked up from where she leaned back against the wall behind the bed with a happy, but apologetic smile, knowing who it was that looked in on her. Sure enough, there stood Clay, "Pitfall: The Big Adventure" clasped firmly in his big hand, but he gave a silent groan as he looked in, realizing that there would be no Wii tonight. But Joss could also see Clay smile as he watched the bluish gleam from the TV set flicker over her face in the dark room. Joss shrugged, but tried hard not to move too much, not that she could with all of her casts.

"And here you are," Gemma sighed, coming up behind Clay. "Right where I told you not to go tonight." She scolded quietly, but gave Joss a quick smile herself before turning her face to Clay's, reaching up and clasping her hands around his neck.

"I was just checking," Clay said innocently, shrugging his big shoulders. "You can't blame me. I just got this game figured out! Now I know that orange stuff is fire, and not to stick my foot in it!"

Joss couldn't help the giggle that escaped her, and she quickly cupped her hand over her mouth. She'd never expected to feel as "adopted" as she did, not just by SOA, but also by Clay and Gemma, but she did, and it was a good feeling. Clay always wandered back to her room, after kissing Gemma when he arrived home from work, and immediately asked how Joss was feeling. He'd been the first person to sign her cast…all of them, once a day, each time with a different name that made Joss laugh. Her two favorites had been "Vladimir Happy Pants," and "Hugh G. Reckshon." And Gemma! Joss couldn't have been more thankful for someone like her in her life at a time like this! Her life had been sorely missing a female role model, and Gemma's caring, loyal and fiercely protective nature, all encased within her 'don't fucking mess with me' exterior was more than Joss could have hoped for. What had started out as one stranger living with, and being totally dependent upon, two other strangers had quickly melted into the family Joss had never had. And tonight, they were letting her have a sleep over of improvised sorts.

"Well I'm sorry, but no video games for you tonight," Gemma smiled a sultry smile up at Clay, but still managed to direct a wink in Joss's direction, letting her know that she'd keep Clay occupied and out of whatever business was going on in Jax's old room tonight. She looked back at Clay, "but if you still want to play with fire, then come play with me!" she purred.

"Ohhhh!" Clay growled and smiled, pulling Gemma close and kissing her sexy smile. He raised his head a bit just before he and his wife disappeared down the hallway. "Night Joss," he half whispered with a smile, then even though it wouldn't be heard, added, "and good night, Tig."

Joss smiled, looked down at where Tig's head lay on a pillow placed on her lap, but he was sleeping deeply and didn't wake in the slightest. There'd never been contact like this between them before, never. When Tig touched her it was either sexual or some kind of angry, domineering 'I'll show you' kind of yank or jerk. But here he was, peaceful and stable, reclined on his side, the back of his head cradled by her flat belly, the cast on her right arm beneath the pillow in her lap to prop it up just enough for his neck not to be bent at an uncomfortable angle, and his arm across her outstretched legs, his hand gently resting contentedly on her right knee. He probably didn't sleep at all the night before, not with what he'd been contemplating before coming to see her earlier today. She lightly stroked his shoulder through the blue cotton of the button down shirt she'd always liked him in, and then looked towards Gemma and Clay again, mouthing a silent "Thank you" as they departed to their room.

Chapter 9; Part 2

Sleep was a welcomed, tranquil veil, but Tig's mind never shut down, never shut off. There was always some thought, some deed, some theory, some question, some memory turning over and over in his head like the wind whipping up a storm, and it was blowing full force tonight. Maybe he'd gotten a little out of control earlier, gone a little crazy; it wouldn't have been his first sojourn to the "other side." Tig had no clue what he'd sounded like. He couldn't feel anything other than stuff about Joss that had been ripping him apart from the inside out for days now. But he'd told her all about that, thought that even in his unbalanced state he'd managed to put it to her pretty clearly. She just had to understand how much he hated what he felt, but that he couldn't stop feeling it, and he hated that too. He was in no way a willing participant to this, and he hated the only choice he was left with, and it was all because of her, every last little sensation that took him over, throttled him to within an inch of his sanity and then laid him out flat on the floor, crying, screaming and cursing her name and his humanity. It was all because of her.

It seemed like it had been quiet in the room for several minutes after he'd stopped going off, the only noise really was the funny sound of Joss's breathing, like she was about to hyperventilate. Fuck, he'd overdone it, but he'd also managed to say his piece. There was only one thing left to do now, and he was too exhausted in too many ways to think of a decent lead in or transition, so he just sat forward in the chair, getting to his feet. "I got something on the bike," he said stepping closer to the bed Joss seemed pinned down to. "C'mon." He leaned down, intending to scoop her and her busted limbs into his arms and carry her outside, but just before he was close enough to put a hand on her, she let out some sound in between a yelp and a squeal, and pushed herself as far away from him as she could physically get, now cowering in the corner of the headboard and the wall, noticeably shaking, tearful, her eyes watching him through a blank stare of horror.

"What the fuck is this?" Now he yelled, couldn't control the anger that surged inside him, not a nerve left for anything to be getting on, holding his hands palms up, but indicating her direction and demeanor with them. He was finally admitting defeat, showing her he was broke down to nothing, he was finally giving into what he knew she'd always wanted, and now's when she suddenly acted all afraid and stand-offish? Jesus Christ! He'd never fucking figure her out!

But the more he looked at her, the more Tig began to see something else. Her eyes were wide, but they'd closed and she trembled when his voice had raised, she'd pulled her broken leg and foot and arms as much around herself as she could, despite the three casts, and she was crying, uncontrollably, making no noise, just looking at him with fright and pleading her green eyes. Lots of people had looked at him like that before, lots of women, for the last time. Shit! Yeah, he'd way overdone things!

"Oh, Joss," he moaned sorrowfully, and for a second time that day, fell to his knees, his elbows on the bed she tried to shield herself from his madness upon. "No," he shook his head, covering his face with his hands and rubbing his forehead, feeling himself start to tear up one more time, and not being able to do a damn thing about it, still. He truly was at a loss for how it was possible to feel another fucking thing today, but now he was, and it consumed so much more than anything else he'd felt previously, shame. He hadn't meant to scare her…not really, but he'd certainly not meant to threaten her. He wasn't a thing that could handle this, he wasn't built to feel…what he felt for Joss, this was never going to work; he'd always end up hurting her, just like he'd done now. "No, baby," he muttered again, reaching out towards her with one hand, but not surprised to see her pull back even further. Christ, there were times when it actually felt good to have the shit beat out of him, and this would have ranked pretty highly as one of them had there been an available party to kick his ass. He leaned forward more on his knees, reached out further until he touched the toes that stuck out of the hard cast on her left leg. She couldn't pull that leg any closer to herself than it already was, and he knew that. They were just her toes, but it was part of her enough to at least let her feel that his touch wasn't fueled by anger, or murderous intent. His hand closed over them gently, being so careful, over-accentuating tenderness in his touch. "No, c'mon, it's not like that, I swear to God it's not."

Joss drew a deep breath, wiped at her tears with the back of her hand, but she still didn't trust him, but she was beginning to want to, he could see it in her eyes where her tears still flowed. He always hated being hit by that urge to take care of her, but Tig didn't fight it this time, remembering there was a box of tissues on the night table. He leaned over to get her one, yanking it out of the box with ordinary intentions, but as soon as he moved, he saw Joss flinch. He felt himself grimace, for a second not having to imagine how terrified and hurt she felt, because he could feel everything she did, but it was soon too much to bear, and Tig shook it off, preferring actions to feeling her pain.

He was much slower with his movements now, approaching her carefully as he crawled onto the bed beside her, treating her like some scared rabbit he only wanted to show affection to. "It's okay," he half whispered as he got closer to her, sliding up beside her on the mattress, her eyes watching him vigilantly, her body stiff as if she still possessed the power to get up and run if she wanted to. "It's okay," he soothingly repeated, balling up the tissue and slowly, gingerly pressing it to the tears on her cheek. To his surprise, but also relief, she didn't pull away from him, but she was still watching his every move, and she was still crying. He wasn't sure what else to do now, but he knew this wasn't enough though, that was obvious. Fuck! Why'd he do this to her? If she only knew how fucking sorry he was, and how much he fucking hated being sorry! But he was sorry…oh!

"Joss," he began, but now his throat started to get tight and he was feeling nervous. But, when he'd said her name, Tig had noticed that she'd looked at him, or more so, that she'd looked to him, needing him to make this better, because no one else could. "I'm sorry, Joss. I'm so sorry!" The words were hard to swallow, because Tig knew he was likely to be saying them to her a lot. "Crazy's my thing, babe, I can't help it, you know what I am." He blotted her tears on the other cheek with the same slow and gentle manner as he'd first touched her with, focusing more on how dry her skin was becoming than he was looking her in the eyes, he didn't want to see her expression if it was still horror and hurt, but he had a sense that she was calming down, that she was giving him a chance. What the fuck had just happened? How'd he go from being a pussy hair away from losing his shit, to being the one making everything all better now? That couldn't be healthy. God damn it all! But, he hoped he was doing it right! "But I am sorry, and I hope somehow you believe it."

Chapter 9; Part 3 

It was black leather, new, soft, supple, black leather that had some fringe hanging down each convex back seam, and there was leather lacing on each open side instead of another seam, almost like a corset. The front of the vest also closed with long leather laces that looped around four, big, leather covered buttons. Joss could wear it over something or with nothing at all under it, the cut and style designed to cling to and show off the body that had won her more than a handful of pageant crowns. But that wasn't what made this vest special, not all.

She suddenly felt herself sliding off of Tig's bike where it was parked in Clay and Gemma's driveway. She struggled to adjust herself and cursed the heaviness of the cast on her left leg that kept pulling her off balance, but just then Tig reached out and gently steadied her, bringing her against him and holding her there. It wasn't the cast that was pulling her off the bike, it was that the bike itself was shaking, because so was Tig, and so was she. But this time it was in a much better way. Joss couldn't believe he'd given her this, and neither could he.

Her finger shivered as she touched it to the embroidery on the back of the vest, tracing the bottom rocker again and again. There was a reaper in the center, but a much smaller version than what was on Tig's cut, and the letters S.A.M.C.R.O. weren't styled in a rocker format, but instead they were sewed in a straight line beneath the reaper logo. There was a top rocker though, with big, all capital letters that read, "PROPERTY." At the bottom was another rocker, also with big, all capital letters, and they read, "OF TIG."

Joss had read it three times now, and three times she'd gasped, finally looking up at Tig and trying to think of something to say, but she was so shocked and so excited and so happy, that all she could do was laugh like a kid on Christmas morning. He'd given her a property patch, she was now his! It didn't get anymore official than this by MC standards, not even with a wedding ring attached. There'd be no more sending her away, no more trying to find her way back to him, she was his, she belonged to him in the same way that his bike belonged to him; Tig hated it, but he'd decided to keep her!

"I gotta explain what this means?" She got the impression that Tig felt like someone should say something, even though he had no real idea of what to say for an occasion like this. Or, maybe he wanted to be certain she understood just what it was he'd given her, what it meant in every context it represented.

Joss's head whipped back and forth in a happy frenzy. "No!" She smiled, unable to contain her joy, and quite a contrast to the petrified girl who was sure she'd be dying by his hand if she left the confines of Jax's old room with him. "No, Tig, you don't!" She finally settled herself down enough to look up at him and smile, but she couldn't stop tracing the bottom rocker with her finger, which worked over the three letters of his name again and again.

Tig shook his head as if trying to down play all the honor she was giving him, but he must have wanted to reciprocate it at the same time. "You know you're the only one to ever get this from me, I had an old lady once years ago, but no girl has ever worn my patch."

Joss's smile only grew wider as she felt more and more touched, and soon she was blinking back tears once more. She'd seen plenty of old ladies wearing property patches in all the clubs that she'd hung around on her many journeys to find Tig, and she'd always envied them. To outsiders even the name "property patch" held nothing but negative, sexist connotations of slavery, where women were owned by men and severely punished for not obeying their master's every word. Well, there was that side of it, Joss had seen it first hand, but it didn't have to be like that. She'd seen more patched women who were treated like queens than she'd seen abused, but what a patched woman's life was like and how she was regarded was up to the man she was the property of. And men didn't hand out property patches to just any woman, they were usually very selective, it was a major decision that in some clubs even required the approval of the President, or at least was put up for discussion at "church." Joss gasped again, suddenly realizing that when Tig had gone to Clay and Gemma about taking her in from the hospital, that he must have submitted what his intentions with her were to Clay then! No wonder Clay had always been so nice to her! No wonder Gemma had taken her under her wing!

"Oh, Tig!" Joss squealed, and suddenly hugged the patch to her with fervent force. She was officially his! He'd wished to make it known to everyone he respected and who respected him. If anyone touched her, or talked to her in a way she didn't like, all she had to do was say the word and there'd be hell to pay, and Tig would be the one dishing it out…and behind him would be the entire club, defending the honor of their brother by defending the honor of what he laid claim to! She'd never be a member of SAMCRO, she'd never have all the rights and privileges as Tig or his brothers, but through Tig, she had their support and their protection. That's what he'd given her. It was so much more than a vest! Joss shuddered again, loving how this all felt and loving Tig even more. "I never saw this coming!" She sniffled, but the smile wouldn't leave her face.

Tig kind of chuckled, looking more comfortable and confident in this now, but in typical Tig fashion, he wasn't about to totally give in and be as exuberant as Joss was. "Yeah, I know what you saw coming." He smiled at her teasingly, but then must have had the whole scene in Jax's bedroom playing out again in his head, because his smile faded some and his expression grew more enigmatic. He shook his head, but reached out and ran out his fingers lightly through her long, dark, wavy hair in a way Joss had never felt him do before. "This thing we have is pretty fucked up, Joss. You realize that, don't you?"

Tig wasn't apologizing, he'd already done that. But Joss knew what he was saying, despite how vaguely he'd said it. It was a warning of sorts; he wanted her to know that he wasn't sure how to do this, but that he'd try, even though this was the last place he'd ever wanted to be with any woman. "Well," Joss felt her composure returning and her smile became more reserved, more patient, but no less encouraging as she looked into his ice blue eyes. "Maybe it's just fucked up enough, then."

He sighed, his head nodded a little, and all too quickly he broke their stare and looked off in the distance. "You're crazy for wanting this, with me."

"I know," she smiled and laughed a little, because how many times had she tried to talk herself away from Tig Trager? And for very good reasons! "But you're not talking me out of it, so don't even try!" She added, still smiling, but her words tinged with a mere bit of sharpness that made Tig look back at her.

He looked at her now with a solemn expression, all seriousness. He raised both his hands to her face, fingers cupping both her cheeks and his thumbs under her chin, lifting her eyes directly to his. "Don't make me regret this, Joss. I'm begging you."

Joss felt a chill go through her, understanding that this was another warning from him. Don't disrespect him, don't make him look like a fool, don't do anything that might leave him with no other choice than the one she'd been terrified that he'd come to earlier. He didn't let go of her, his eyes still boring into hers, the intensity of his stare unlike it was any other time. Slowly Joss began to realize another part of what he was saying to her; don't hurt him, don't break his heart. The breath melted out of her, her heart pounded and she wished so much that he'd just pull her close and kiss her, but Tig was still Tig, no matter that she now wore his patch. "I'm yours," she said softly, placing her fingers tenderly over one of his hands as he held her. "Tell me what to do."

She felt him take a deep breath more than she saw him do it, like feeling something move inside him, but his eyes, his gaze, was as steady as rock. She awaited his answer, eager to give him all her healing body could handle and more, here and now, out in the open in the driveway, on his bike, but what he finally said surprised her. "Tell me you love me."


	10. Home Improvement

_Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 10

Jocelyn got her casts off today! She and Gemma were at Saint Thomas's right now. It seemed like this day took forever in arriving, but finally she'd be getting back to normal! Her fractured foot had healed two weeks ahead of the full blown transverse break in her left tibia, and also the spiral fracture in her right radius. It now seemed like nothing, but at the time Joss couldn't have been happier when Tara had finally taken the soft cast off of her right foot. She'd been so stoked to be tooling around on crutches for a change, but now she was beside herself with joy that she'd be totally free of plaster and fiberglass, able to move around as much as she wanted to, however she wanted to. But for as ecstatic as Joss was, she came nowhere near to matching how excited Tig was! Not that he enjoyed it of course, he'd never be friendly with these feelings, but he was learning he didn't have to fight them quite so hard anymore. But, he didn't show how much he was looking forward to Joss being fully healed, not one demonstrative action or statement, there was no sense in putting himself out there like that, after all. But all the same, he was thrilled, completely and utterly thrilled!

He maneuvered the last piece of oak paneling into place, now pounding the nails into it and eager to finally get the refurbishing of the old split level finished. It wasn't the most grandiose of residences, not by far, but it sat on a wooded lot and had a long and winding driveway nearly a quarter mile off the main road. That made for safe club business should it ever need to take place here. And Joss would love it; she'd always preferred to be surrounded by nature, liked to hear insects and owls and shit at night. Well, there were sounds all around this place, all the time; Tig had even seen the footprints of deer and had to chase a raccoon off the weed eaten patio, but he hoped it wouldn't run too far away, Joss would like it if a raccoon came for a visit now and then. Yeah, this old place was perfect, especially for an abandoned house that no one even knew existed until Tig put money on it two days after Joss was released from the hospital. Who knew his military retirement checks would ever amount to so much? If not for that, and Gemma, Tig would have no place to be so excited about bringing Joss home to.

Gemma; for as much respect as he had for that woman, and also for the size of the crush he'd had on her once; Tig wasn't pleased with how well she'd voiced her opinion of his original plan for him and Joss. She walked all around his dorm at the clubhouse, getting more and more exasperated every time she scrutinized or touched something, or looked in the closet, finally turning to him with her hands on her hips, reminding him too much of his mother. "Oh, no," she said flatly, giving him that look that only Gemma could give. "No, no, no, no!"

"What?" Tig stood looking around at all the things Gemma had inspected and seeing enough of a change in the overall cleanliness and organization to be sufficient. "I cleaned out two drawers in the dresser over there, it's not like she's got that much stuff."

"She's going to need more than two drawers, Tig!" Gemma looked at him and just rolled her eyes, then turned her attention to the bed, covered with an old, olive green, wool army blanket, and she pulled it back. She groaned immediately. "There aren't even sheets on this bed!"

Tig sighed; didn't she notice any of the improvements he'd made? "Where do you think I got the curtains from?" He asked, and pointed to the one small window. He'd attached the sheets to the wall just above the pane…with pushpins.

"Tigger," Gemma straightened again and shook her head at him, but she didn't sound as sickened as before. There was advice coming, he could feel it, that look was on her face. "I want you to think about something. You can't bring Joss back here. There isn't enough space for the two of you in this 'flop and fuck' of a room, and even if there was, there's only one bathroom, down the hall, that your old lady would be sharing with scores of bikers and their pussy du jour. Do you want that?"

Hmm, he hadn't actually considered that, but then, he'd never considered having a woman in his life full time. But, he'd never let Gemma know she'd been right, or that her insistence of wanting to see what he'd done with the dorm was also well warranted. "I get it, okay?"

"That's good, but you're going to listen to the rest of it anyway." Gemma crossed her arms in front of her with half a swaggering smile. "There aren't many girls Joss's age who survive getting passed from club to club, from asshole to asshole, without someone holding them down and inking a Tramp Stamp on their backs, and you know it. Joss has something; she's got what it takes to make it. She reminds me a lot of me when I was her age, and there's no way in fucking hell I'd live here!" She paused for a moment, watching him and knowing that what she'd said was really making him think, and it was. It still did. Gemma's smile broadened and she'd stepped closer to him, reached out and straightened the folded over leather collar of his cut. "It's just so good to see you with someone that isn't a dirty little bitch, and I want you to have the best chance to make this work that's possible…" his collar now straight, she smiled almost sweetly and patted his shoulder, but a little menace flavored her next words. "So don't half-ass it!"

They were words Tig took to heart; not wanting any of this, but also not wanting to fail. No one had lived in this house for about ten years, it had its share of repairs that needed to be made before it was truly a "home," but he'd been working on them. It had taken more than a month, but the interior was finally livable, the water was on, the plumbing worked, there was a meager amount of furniture, and all the work had provided him with enough of an outlet to get him right enough in the head to give Joss that patch she'd already started wearing every day for the last three weeks. He'd always hated construction and carpentry work, but he could do it, and it wasn't like he'd been working alone. Bobby helped put the tiles down in the bathroom and in the kitchen. Happy, who liked beating the shit out of things as much as Tig did, was there to assist with sledge hammering down the old wall board and then putting up the new stuff. It had surprised the hell out of Tig when Opie approached him about doing the electric in the house, but Tig hadn't refused; things maybe wouldn't ever be great between them, but they respected each other as brothers, and they each respected the club even more. Largely though, it had been him and Clay that worked together the most, fixing that, improving this, building another thing, and directing Sack to do whatever menial task they wouldn't touch themselves. But there couldn't have been a better time to have a prospect around, because now there was paint on the walls and carpet on the floors, too…not to mention that the stinking, dead opossum had been removed from the chimney.

The work had been exhausting, hot and generally left Tig sore all over, and the very thing that motivated him to keep going also scared the fuck out of him, but it was going to pay off in another hour or so! She and Gemma should be about done at the hospital soon, and then Gemma would be dropping her off here. Joss would be completely healed up; no more waiting for what Butcher had done to her to go away, no more wondering where he could leave her, how he could get her set up there, and what kind of hell she'd end up in when she ran away from it, just like Joss always did. No more. This was a real live, authentic, fresh start! Shit…was he actually more excited about that than he was scared?

Maybe it was because he was just excited in general; there were a lot of things to look forward to now. No more casts meant that Joss would be able to ride with him now, and not only did she always look good on the back of his bike, but she felt good there too. It must have been all the horses she'd rode, because Tig didn't have to explain to her how to keep her hips loose and grip with her knees around turns. From the very first time she'd gotten on behind him, she'd just wrapped her arms around his waist and became part of the bike with him. Not every girl just took to it like that.

Of course, Joss's casts being off and both her legs being able to bend meant something else too…but if Tig thought about that too much, it delayed his home improvements and required him to work with a slightly different 'tool.' But it was good that her casts were too cumbersome to try fucking her. There was just something about doing that up the hall from Gemma that was weird. And it brought him no amount of shame to admit it, but Tig was glad he and Joss had some time together that wasn't about sex. That girl had an effect on him like he'd never predicted anyone would, and he'd fought what he felt for her way too hard to not have it be…what it was, but at least he now knew that it was still there, even if they weren't fucking. Somewhere in his more decent past, around the time he married his first wife, he remembered it was important to know there was more to a relationship than only physical compatibility. He felt like such a dick thinking about it now, but he'd found himself thinking about it nonetheless; he'd put far too much blood, sweat and tears into this to find out that Jocelyn was nothing but a supreme piece of pussy that he'd tire of within a few weeks, and then be so fucking bored and irritated with her that he just…whatever. But no, that wasn't the case, it was far from it…but Tig shied away from thinking about what that said about him.

And there was one more thing that Tig looked forward to now that Joss was Joss again. It wasn't something that was usually done for something like this, but there was going to be a party at the clubhouse to celebrate Joss being "patched." It was Clay's idea…though it smelled all over like Gemma. But, Gemma had been correct when she'd said that no member had awarded out a property patch for years, it was something everyone had been talking about, particularly since it was Tig who had done it. No one expected that! Particularly not him! Everyone wanted to meet the girl that brought Trager to his knees…or his senses as some were saying, and besides, it was a good way to introduce Joss to his brothers and let them get to know her; they were in some ways responsible for her now after all. Tig had wanted to wait and not have this "reception" of sorts until after Joss's casts were off. He wanted to be able to walk around with her on his arm, knowing that everyone watched her long legs striding proudly forward, her shiny, long dark hair rippling behind her, milky skin and classic features highlighted in the light of bonfires, and that fantastic rack of hers neatly showcased within the black leather vest that boldly proclaimed, "PROPERTY OF TIG" on the back. He'd always loved to show off a beautiful girl he was fucking, at least, he did until they started…talking or something else that was equally as annoying, but this time was different. Joss was HIS beautiful girl.

Aww fuck…nope, no fear anywhere in that realization! But sadly enough, Tig knew he wasn't losing it either. Damn it to hell, but he was happy. What the fuck was that? He'd never show it, he was a master of suppressing emotions, but it was still there, an unwelcomed invasion of who he was. Happiness; he hated it, hated it a lot, but he hoped Joss was feeling it too.

Chapter 10; Part 2

"You going to be okay out there tonight?" Gemma nearly looked into the backseat to talk to Joss, both of them laughing as she realized Joss sat in the passenger seat now, both legs able to bend at the knees, no more casts!

"Yeah," Joss smiled and nodded with an eagerness to get where they were going. She hadn't even seen the house yet, only heard about it from Tig and Clay. It was a little strange to know she was leaving Gemma and Clay's house though. She couldn't thank them enough for giving her a place to stay and recover; and it had been more than just her taking up space in Jax's old room for the five weeks she'd been in their house.

Tig had generally spent the night there as well, beside her in Jax's old full size bed, verbalizing his awkward attempts to learn how to just lay there and get used to the intimacy of sharing a bed with her, without giving into the urge to make one of them sleep on the floor. Every time he lay down beside her and turned out the light, it gave rise to a myriad of nervous questions and ridiculous rules that Joss would have expected if Tig was some sheltered altar boy who had never, ever touched a woman before in his life. But in a way he was just like that; she knew he only fucked women; he didn't sleep next to them. Sleeping next to someone, waking up with them, meant something he wanted no part of understanding, but now he was trying to, as difficult as it was for him to do. But he wasn't going down without a fight…an audible, bitchy, whiny fight: "Keep your hair on your side, it keeps touching me and it feels like bugs are walking on me!" "Are you touching me again?" "What are you touching me with?" "Well stop touching me then, I can't deal with it." "Hey, try putting your arm here…no, here…no, like over my chest…here! Yeah, like that…okay, get the hell off of me, this isn't fucking working!" "You know, this would be easier if one of us were dead…like you." "Why is part of you always where I want to put part of me?" "Because I can't relax, Joss! You broke the law of physics or some shit, because you're not that big, but you're taking up all the room!" "Fuck, is it morning yet? I can't do this anymore!" "What do you mean you can't sleep?"

After the first night like that, Joss couldn't help laughing, but she'd always worried that she and Tig and their "practice runs" as Tig called them, might be keeping Clay and Gemma awake. But Gemma never said anything, either she couldn't hear a thing, or she hadn't expected anything different than what happened in Jax's old room every night. She truly did owe Gemma, but it went beyond thanking her for sharing her home with her, and also Tig. Joss had no idea how to thank Clay and Gemma for giving her a sense of having family around her! But, maybe there was no thanking someone for that? You just accepted it, and returned the favor? She smiled again, but had the oddest sense that she was leaving one home for a new one. "I'll be fine tonight, Gemma." She said. "Thanks!"

"Are you sure?" Gemma's eyebrows furrowed and she gave Joss a sideways glance, but Joss could tell that none of it was born out of disapproval. "There's no shame in wanting to come back home with Clay and I tonight, make Tig wait just a little bit longer, you have had quite a big day already, and no one can fault you if you'd like to…learn how to walk again before he's got you running." She smirked.

Joss laughed, but shook her head, toying with the black leather laces at the front of her vest. "No, it's time." She smiled, touched by Gemma's concern, but Joss was dying to see her man, to be with him, and to finally stay with him! "Tig and I have been 'walking' a lotta miles lately. Trust me, he can't wait any longer!" She laughed again, and so did Gemma.

"Well, I know Tig can be a little…intense sometimes," Gemma said, looking ahead out the windshield now, searching for the old logging road that lead into the driveway of what would now be Tig and Jocelyn's house. "If you ever need to get away, or need to run away, you know there's a room and a bed at our place!"

Joss didn't know what it was like to have a mother, but this sure seemed like what it should have been like when a daughter got married and moved out of the house. She tried to speak, but she could only sigh and push back the tears before Gemma began to think she was some Hallmarky type of romance novel reading ninny. "Thank you for that, Gemma," She said sincerely, effectively retaining her composure, almost. "Thank you for everything you and Clay have done for me; and thank you for all you've done for Tig, too!"

Gemma flipped her blinker on and pulled onto the logging road, then in no time was on the lengthy driveway that winded back towards Joss's new house, and her new life. "No," she looked over at Joss with a solemn expression. "Tig is a vital part of this club, and there have been a few times that I watched him really struggle, and I wondered how he was going to make it, prayed that something was going to pull him through." She cocked her head in Joss's direction. "I think I figured it out what it was now. So, thank you for all you've done for Tig!"


	11. Buyer's Remorse

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 11

"I know it's nothing like you're old place," Maybe Tig didn't notice that he'd had a hammer in his hand the whole time he took her around the house. But he did, just kept hold of it with a firm hand as he showed her the new paneling in the living room, the sectional that Clay and Gemma had given them, the brand new forty-eight inch plasma TV that he wasn't real clear on the purchasing details of, and then onto the kitchen and the new dishwasher that he still didn't think they needed. Next the downstairs bathroom and the tale of how Bobby, who Joss hadn't even met yet, got himself stuck in the corner between the wall and the commode while he was tiling and needed Tig to yank him out.

Then it was down to the basement where he'd found all the snake skins, still some cleaning out to do down there, but from there it was back upstairs, back through the living room, where the carpet was supposed to be tan, but when he picked it up, it was black, but the guy at the store didn't speak enough English, so Tig just took it and left. Then itwas up the stairs, into a red stairwell, that matched nothing else in the house, but Half-Sack, who Joss also hadn't yet met, had sworn there was no other paint to be had. Upstairs there were two empty bedrooms to the left, that would be good for when some of the guys might need to sleep it off, and there was another bathroom midway down the hall that was much bigger and nicer than the downstairs one Bobby had nearly taken up permanent residence in.

There was one more room at the opposite end of the upstairs hallway, but the door was shut, and before Joss could ask about it, Tig, hammer clutched in his hand, was leading her back down the red stairwell, back into the kitchen, and through the storm door, out into the garage where his bike was expertly parked in front of a full tool bench and peg board containing more motorcycle and automotive repair equipment than Joss could even name. Yes, it was all very impressive, in just over a month, he'd turned an abandoned house into a more than decent abode for the two of them, but where were they going to sleep? Was there no master bedroom? Were there just too many snake skins in it? Was there some sort of romantic reveal coming that he wanted to surprise her with? Oh yeah, that was definitely it! Tig and romance went together like the King James Bible and an ad for a penis pump…which Tig didn't require…Joss couldn't help her sudden mysterious smile. She'd missed him, having him close every night hadn't been quite close enough.

"Tig, you know I don't even want to think about my 'old place,' there's nothing good about it to remember," Joss smiled up at him and tried to reach across and weave her hand into the one of his that wasn't holding that hammer still. But when she touched him, she felt all the muscles in his arm and hand tense. For a second she couldn't help glancing downwards at where her fingers gradually squeezed between his, wondering if she'd somehow hurt him. Something was with him again, he'd seemed so eager and even happy when she and Gemma had first arrived, couldn't wait to show her around the new place, but after Gemma had left he'd changed into a hammer toting, rambling, babbling, fast walking tour guide. What happened? "I love this house, and I love all the work you've done on it even more!" She smiled and closed the distance between them, her hands on his chest, leaning her head to the side a bit and angling her chin up, Tig leaning downwards in a familiar motion, but suddenly distracted by something and pulling away before a kiss was ever truly off the ground.

He pulled his hand from hers and turning away to look around the garage, shaking his head. "It's not done, feels like it'll never get there…and too much of the time I'm just standing here wishing I knew what to do next." The hammer he held began to swing, into the palm of his open hand, claw end first, as though he had no idea of what he was about to inflict upon himself.

"Hey!" Joss quickly reached out and caught the arm of the hand with the swinging hammer in it, stopping Tig's motion and not letting go. "Maybe I should hold this for awhile?" She said, smiling calmly as she indicated the hammer, but she was beginning to get concerned that all the work had gotten to him and she hoped she could say something to end this newest mood before it really got started. "You look a little like that guy "Schneider" on that old seventies show "One Day At A Time." She laughed.

Evidently Tig hadn't caught what she'd said at all, and it was quickly apparent that he didn't realize he was even holding a hammer either. "Why do I have this fucking thing?" He asked no one in particular, and just dropped it on the floor of the garage, now trying not to look at her, because he obviously hadn't meant for her to see him with that hammer…at least, it seemed.

Joss stooped and picked it up, laying it on the tool bench behind her, but quickly turning her attention back to Tig, who was looking more and more fidgety and agitated, standing near his bike now and meticulously picking off the little tiny bits of dead leaves that the breeze kicked up around the house. She'd seen this before, recognized the symptoms, and began to shut down the worry that was blooming inside her head and heart. He was nervous, she could handle this, just had to get him to stop thinking about all the work to be done. "The house will get done, Tig. You'll figure it out, and I'll help too!" She smiled, slowly moving up beside him, but not getting too close, letting him have whatever space he needed. She'd expected him to have his occasional bouts of cold feet, but to be unraveling again, less than an hour after Gemma left them alone, was a bit of a surprise. Joss was confident, but then again she barely knew how to navigate through this with him; all her prior skills and manipulations with Tig had been centered on trying to get him to do what she wanted, not try to hold him together. But now she had to learn how to do just that, and this was certainly a crash course.

He nodded, but it was a jerky kind of anxious reaction and not a true acknowledgement of what she'd said, and he still wouldn't look at her. There was a dead bug or something splattered on the chrome of the throttle and Tig set about scratching it off with his thumbnail. It was stubbornly stuck there though, took some buffing of his shirt sleeve, but instead of bringing out angry frustration in him, it seemed to take him down into some kind of self doubt. He looked across the garage now, not at her, his head hung down so low that from the back he looked like there was nothing a top his shoulders. He stopped polishing the throttle and now leaned against the seat of his bike with both hands, completely still and completely silent for what felt like a long time, but then from out of nowhere, Joss heard him speak. "What if I can't do this?"

She knew it! Joss breathed a sigh of relief, it was this again, they'd discussed this several times as they lay together in Jax's old bed, Tig too keyed up by the whole sleeping arrangements to close his eyes and even pretend to be asleep. It was more of the same; yeah, she could handle this, no problem. Her immediate reaction had always been to stay positive against his negatives. "And what if you can?"

But this time was different, Tig immediately stiffened against her boost of confidence, his back still to her, shaking his head and holding up the back of one hand with a sharp, displeased movement, pushing her away from him without even having to touch her. "Joss!" he said quickly and shortly, shaking his head. No, he wasn't about to be encouraged, just couldn't deal with that right now.

"Okay," she sighed, a little lost with how she should proceed now, but she took a step back from him, knowing this was no time to make him feel closed in, he was much too irritated. But she had to do something; she was his old lady now, part of that meant easing these periods of…whatever this was, right? Well, maybe. Joss really wasn't sure just what being his old lady meant, she didn't know how to do this. Maybe it would help Tig to know he wasn't alone in that feeling? "Look, I've never tried doing this before. I'm not sure how good at this I'm going to be either. My father fucked me over in more ways than one, and the other guys that I have been with didn't give me any of this," she said gesturing around the house, her hands coming to rest on the black leather vest she wore. "I know it was a long time ago, and I know you don't like to think about it, but you have done this before, Tig, and you did it the right way, too. As far as this fucked up thing between you and me goes, out of the two of us, you aren't the one I'm worried about."

To her surprise he gave a grunting kind of laugh, only briefly then straightened up a little, still facing away from her. "You'll be fine, Joss. You're already doing fine." He didn't sound like he was being facetious, there was no explosion of anger on the rise, he'd just given her an unexpected compliment, but things weren't better, they weren't over. Tig sighed like he wished the conversation could just be over, and being that he did effectively own her, it could have been over any time he said that it was, but instead, he was struggling to explain just what it was that had him so keyed up. "That wasn't what I meant."

"What else is there?" Joss closed the distance between them, sensing it was safe to do so, and there was something she'd felt in his voice that seemed to want her near him. If it wasn't the actual repairs still needed on the house, and it wasn't their pending domestic life, then really, what else was there?

He sighed again, slowly turned towards her, but not all the way, giving her half a glance, but his eyes shifting towards the work bench like it was a safer thing to be looking at…maybe he wanted that hammer back, it was some kind of…security hammer? "Just, what if I can't?"

Joss shook her head. What if he can't what? Communicate effectively? Right now, she'd give that one a big fail! "Tig," she sighed and gently stroked his forearm with the back of her hand, repressing the frustration that was starting to build. "I'm sorry. Usually, I get you pretty good, but you're going to have to give me more of clue than that on this one."

She could see his lower teeth scrape against the inside of his lower lip, deep in some kind of new mental anguish as he tried to fortify himself against the thought of elaborating, obviously not wanting to say more than he already had. Whatever it was, he didn't want to give it a name; it was just too scary to think about that way. Joss stepped even closer, not sure if she did it to try and comfort Tig, or herself, but before it could really matter, Tig suddenly bent his knees and squatted down by the bike, pulled the dipstick, but not all the way, just a little, moving the long rod of it in and out of the slick hole in the oil pan once or twice, then slamming it back in again.

Oh God! He was afraid he couldn't…that when they tried to…that his…he was nervous about whether he could…Tig? Joss couldn't get her mind around that image! She was stunned that he had such a concern, had never been ready for this to be what he revealed to her! But she should have been able to figure it out. Looking back, the only physical contact they'd really had over the last few weeks was laying there together uncomfortably in Jax's old bed, but there'd scarcely been a kiss between them since the whole patch thing had gone down, and even when she and Gemma had arrived, Tig had given her a hug, a big hug, held her so close that she knew how much he was starving for her body, but after Gemma had drove away, and it was only him and her, things had deteriorated physically. Okay, he'd given her his patch, and that certainly had changed what they used to have together, it definitely wasn't the same anymore, but that didn't mean that…but, what did Joss really know about any of this herself? The more she tried to come up with an answer, the more lost she discovered she was. She'd never faced this either. Fucking wasn't fucking anymore…or was it? Damn it! How did you combine sex and love without them extinguishing each other?

Tig wouldn't look at her, poor thing. He just stared at the cement of the garage floor, too embarrassed to look at her, but he did speak, like he'd so much rather still have a secret that she didn't understand, but he offered no solutions. "Just please don't tell me you think I'm afraid I can't check my oil…"


	12. NonConsensual

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 12

The situation wasn't good. Tig hated being surprised by anything, and that's exactly what this had been. He'd been focusing for so long on reconciling his hatred and fear of what he felt for Joss with also admitting to himself that he just couldn't live without her anymore, and in it all he never once thought about how it was going to change everything. Everything! All these weeks, all day today, he'd been looking so forward to bringing her back to this house, their house, and christening every damn room of it with shit he hadn't even forced drunken sweetbutts into doing. And then Gemma was gone, and it was this house, him and Joss…and a hammer, apparently. He was beginning to understand perhaps why he just couldn't let go of that hammer; it was the only thing he could count on being able to pound Joss with.

He didn't remember how, but somewhere along the lines they'd drifted from the garage up onto the porch, where they'd passed a good three hours talking about the weather, the trees around the house, if Joss should dye her hair a darker color or not, if he should get another bike or not, but Tig already knew the answer to that one. He wasn't even really sure what they were currently discussing, something about the way the sun was setting or something. His mind had gone numb about an hour ago, but he'd remained painfully aware that Joss sat on the very top step of the porch, and he was all the way at the bottom, the distance between them speaking more than they could for themselves. The crisis was still a crisis, though neither of them had dared to delve into it, and neither wanted to try. It seemed that somehow, if they just ignored it, it was going to go away. Maybe somewhere in Joss's inexperienced mind, she actually believed that eventually, they'd just look at each other the right way, and then touch each other in the right place, and one thing would lead to another, and their problem would be solved. But for Tig, he knew that wasn't possible. There were too many contradictions to fight through, too many ways he knew he just couldn't count on himself to respond; he burned to have her naked flesh under his hands, but at the same time, he had no idea how to touch her anymore. This was all so fucking stupid! She was his property! He could do whatever the fuck he wanted to her, and she couldn't say a damn thing about it. How she felt about it, if she was even satisfied, didn't matter anymore. Why keep putting this pressure on himself? Why didn't he just go up there, rip her clothes off and fuck her until he came?

Why? Because that would have made him her father, that would have made him Butcher, that would have made him any number of guys she'd no doubt been passed around to, that Tig regrettably felt that he preferred not to think about. But, he was her father, he was Butcher, he was one of those guys who used women, took what he wanted without caring about anything other than what he wanted. He'd convinced himself that he'd been doing the same with Joss too, even though being with her, being inside her, was unsettlingly different from fucking some hangaround whore. But at least then, what he felt and what he denied was his secret. It wasn't so anymore. He'd never told her he loved her, and he knew he never would, but…damn that girl! Was there no end to the torture she was always, somehow, inflicting upon him? She'd fucked up his mind, she'd fucked with his emotions, and now she'd even found a way to fuck with his body…yeah, and he was fucking stupid enough to sit down here on the bottom step thinking that he owned her!

This whole thing fucking sucked, and every time he turned around, it was like it fucking sucked even more than it did before, but only in a new and unpredicted way. God damn that fucking property patch! Whoever thought of the damn things needed one shoved up their ass, stuck out of an empty beer bottle, half filled with gasoline! He should have thought about that more, maybe he'd have taken it down a few notches, not put his name on the patch, just let her be property of SAMCRO in general…of course, that would have meant that any of his brothers, Bobby, Happy, Juice, Jax, eventually even Half-Sack, could have had Joss any time they wanted to. No, he couldn't have watched that, or even know it was happening. He'd done what felt right, and Tig still felt like it was right, but how were they going to get through this? The pressure was truly on him to find an answer, because Joss was only eighteen, she'd never practiced this serial monogamy, love making shit with anyone…but Tig had. Joss was right, he had done this before, "the right way" as she'd said it…but just how he used to love a woman, and be her lover had for so long been beaten down in his memory that there were nothing but tattered bits of it left. It was so hard now to even imagine that once, fucking…no, sex had been equally as much about what he felt emotionally as it was what he felt physically. There had once been an organ that had to share the spotlight with his eight in dick, his heart. But, those two really didn't talk to each other anymore. Christ he hated to be thinking about this now, but what other options did he have, and what other experience did he have to draw from except for his marriage, another lifetime ago? Fuck!

Whatever Joss had been saying, she suddenly stopped, able to tell he hadn't exactly been tuned into her for some time now. She sighed, ran her hands up her long legs, free of the casts, reminding Tig how much he wanted them over his shoulders, but he said nothing, didn't move, just watched her folding her arms in her lap. "Look," she said, staring down the steps at him, her exact expression difficult to read due to the fading day light. "I'm going to call Gemma, I think you're going to be more comfortable here tonight if I go back to her and Clay's house." She paused like she wanted to say more, or wanted him to say something, but after a few seconds of nothing happening, she sighed again. "Maybe it's just too soon?"

Without any thought to it, Tig was shaking his head. "You can't do that." He looked at her quickly and then grabbed an acorn cap that lay on the sidewalk and winged it out into the wooded yard at the tree it had no doubt fallen from.

"Why can't I?" Joss asked without any hesitation, immediately earning her a harsh 'how dare you' look from him. She was his, what he said was what was from now on, would she ever get that? She rolled her eyes at him. "I mean, besides the fact that you said so."

"Joss, you call Gemma and tell her to come pick you up and you're going to make me look like I couldn't…" he sighed, feeling like they were entering into that shit-hole conversation they'd had in the garage hours ago. "No, don't call her. You're not going anywhere."

She nodded, but he heard her exhale sharply, and she ground her teeth a little within her closed mouth. Her temperament had been so even for so long sitting up there on the top step, but had she only been stewing some kind of shit storm over this the whole time? Joss was not without the occasional interlude of crazy herself; when the pressure of something broke her down, she was like the Tasmanian Devil…no, she was like a scene out of "The Exorcist," minus the pea soup flying everywhere! It was actually one of the things Tig kind of liked about her, but she wasn't stupid enough to be getting an attitude about this, was she? Now was no time to be fu—…messing with him! "You know, you're just sitting down there moping about how you don't know what to do with this, and you don't think about how it all makes me feel, do you?"

Jesus fucking Christ! There was that tone in her voice, that tone that started off all normal but would change into the insane, screaming wail of a fucking banshee in a heartbeat. She was picking now to start jacking with him! "Don't do it, Joss." Tig kept his eyes forward, but his voice rose with his annoyance that was quickly turning over into anger. "That's all I'm saying, and I'm only saying it once!" He hoped that would back her down, shut her up. He'd never hit her, and he didn't want to start.

But she wasn't backing down, just kept coming with it like something that didn't know when it was dead. He could feel her slowly moving her way down the steps like the approach of a storm surge, getting closer to him of all things until she sat right there beside him. Her eyes were amazing to see when she was like this though, he swore they glowed. She stared at him through that fire now, with two wide open burning emeralds that threatened to pull him into the depths of hell. He hadn't been there when she'd unloaded a clip into her father, but Tig knew that this was the last thing that asshole had seen. "I do not believe that after all the shit you've done, and all the stories I've heard about how fucking sick you are, and all the sick shit you've fucked, that I am what turns you off!" Her voice sounded like something malevolent slinking darkly down some stairs, gradually building in anger and volume until she was full out yelling at him, and Tig's own rage wasn't lagging very far behind hers. She'd lost her fucking mind; that was clear! And then Joss just exploded, shaking with every word she screamed. "So thank you, Tig! Thank you for making me have to live with the knowledge that fresh horses and dead bodies do more for your big dick than I do!"

Chapter 12; Part 2

Oh God, she should beg him to stop, this was more than she'd imagined! Her lip was split open, the blood trickling all over her neck and chest, staining the wood of the step Tig forced her down against so hard her forehead smacked it with a dull thud. Her right wrist, newly out of a cast, felt for certain like he'd sprained something in it when he'd grabbed it and held her submissively still by bending it as far back as it would go. There were tears in Joss's eyes, though she wasn't crying, she knew better than to start with that, that wouldn't matter, it would only fuel his fire. The hand that Tig had wrapped around the back of her neck kept tightening and tightening, his fingers and thumb exerting so much pressure on each side of her trachea that Joss was beginning to black out, the porch steps, the sidewalk that tore the skin off of her knees, the house, the whole fucking day, spinning out of control. God this was so fucked up, this was so so so fucked up…but she was cumming!

Tig was all force and fury behind her, growling with each thrust that took his breath away, sinking deeper and deeper inside her, Joss's body shuddering as his big cock claimed every inch of the slick, weeping sheath between her legs. The hand that was not threatening to nearly strangle her was pressed firmly into the dark curls below her trembling belly, his fingers jammed deeply into her dripping slit, closed tightly over her twitching clitoris, pinching it until it felt ice cold, cutting off any real chance of relief from the pressure and tension that built and built within her entire groin.

What had she expected? Tig was not something to be trifled with, his sense of right and wrong a bit behind the impulse to hurt, maim and kill. She'd lost it on him, screamed her guts out at him, and now he was losing it on her. She'd barely finished her tirade before his angry blue eyes flashed with revenge, and she was face down against the bottom step, short skirt yanked up around her hips and panties torn off, the biggest dick she'd ever seen, let alone fucked, tearing its path inside her with one ragged stroke.

Her punishment continued, rough and fast and hard, Tig's growls becoming louder, his thrusts a more desperate grind, letting go of her neck to grab her hip and pull her back against him and wedge his big, throbbing cock ever deeper, his body beginning to shudder, but his fingers remained squeezed around her taut, begging clitoris as though he meant to pinch it completely off.

Joss couldn't help her whimper, working her hips against Tig's, bucking against him wildly, but his hand didn't let go of her trapped little bud, and he only pounded into her more, breathing harder and harder. She gasped for air, finally able to get at it, but it wasn't enough, too many tensions danced over her body like electricity, threatening to short her out if she didn't cum. She tried to say his name, tried to beg for some kind of mercy, but it wasn't easy to speak when she was being fucked so hard and had suffered the grip of a hand around her throat.

Tig gave a sudden and final grunt, slamming his dick into her hard, a good long stroke that left his balls flat against the seal of her wet fissure and came, slumped forward onto her with all his weight as his cock pumped out what felt like gallons of his hot seed inside her, everything in him relaxing now, including the hand that had brought so much agony to her clitoris. Gradually his hold lessoned, the blood rushing back into her abused little organ, and with it, the intense cue of orgasm.

Her body nearly became spastic against Tig's, who moaned and shoved his still hard cock into her deeper yet. He'd cum, it was dripping down her thighs, but the only thing that seemed to be softening was the way he needed her. He moaned each time her body contracted around his embedded shaft, both his arms now wrapping around her waist and hugging her against him, one hand again snaking down between her legs and this time gently rubbing her battered little nub, making her worn out passage continue to contract around his still rock hard cock. He was quietly moaning her name in an oddly tender way every time her body embraced his as if he never wanted it to end. But Joss couldn't take anymore, and as soon as his grip lessoned, she wrestled away from him, her now hypersensitive body still tingling everywhere he'd touched her.

She still tried to catch her breath, turning herself over, her knees burned too much to be on them now, and she leaned back against the steps, feeling some of the aches and pains subsiding as her body gradually relaxed. Her lip had stopped bleeding too; actually feeling like it wasn't quite as bad as it had felt when she was face down on her knees. Tig was kneeling in front of her now, his eyes still closed as he also recovered.

"Well," she sighed, but panted still. "I guess we know that impotence is not your problem after all." In fact, he was still hard, his full eight inches jutting out towards her cum soaked thighs.

Tig's eyes sprung open, shocked to now see her looking back at him, focusing on her bloody lip, trying to put all the pieces in order, and as he did, Joss could see them clicking into place. She nodded her head as if coaxing him along to the answer; yeah, she'd concocted that little shit fit about him not being turned on by her, she'd pushed every button he had, pushed him as far as he would go, until he couldn't stop, and she'd done it all on purpose!

But it was evident that Tig wasn't understanding this, or okay with it. He tucked his unrelenting erection back into his jeans and carefully tried to zip them back up. He looked at her with a mix of confusion, anger and fear of just what he'd done to her, standing up and stepping away from her as if he didn't trust himself not to harm her somehow. "What the fuck is going on?"

Joss took a deep breath, hoping he'd understand. "I'm sorry, I know that wasn't really fair to you, but," oh God did she feel horrible for doing this now, but it was done, and they were both okay…at least, they would be. "But I needed you to see that…what I wanted you to realize…" Fuck, how did such a brilliant plan that made so much sense in her head turn to such immediate shit when she tried to put it into words? And Tig was waiting, stuck between hating her and hating himself, and that wasn't right. "Look, if you can do what you just did to me, and I can still love you, then we are going to be fine, no matter what happens in bed! You get me?"

Tig shook his head, the strangest look on his face, and twice he started to say something, but didn't. Well, it wasn't like they'd ever gone through this before; she had to give him that. If he'd forced something like this on her…well, Joss didn't want to think about what the proper name for it would have been then. Oh no! She'd done this to make things better between them, but what if it only made them worse? Joss suddenly felt cold, so cold…and alone. He'd been quiet for so long, too long. "Tig?"

He looked back at her, his eyes staring directly into hers like he was trying to discern just what was in there looking back at him. Joss's heart began to pound again, so sure he'd never, ever trust her again, if he still even wanted anything to do with her that was. And then there was the strangest sound. Tig laughed. "Little girl," he sort of leered down at her, a half impressed look on his face that brought a rush of warmth to Joss. The first time Tig had ever looked at her like that was when he'd stood in the great room of her old house, holding the gun she'd used to kill her father. "You are more fucked up than I am!"


	13. Cross Training

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 13

It still felt a little bit like she was wandering unattended through a place that wasn't hers, but Joss pushed that feeling away. It was her house, and just because she'd gotten up off the porch steps and without a word, walked away and left Tig outside, it didn't make it any less so. At least she knew where the good bathroom was, and she headed up the stairwell with the awful red paint, not really knowing where anything like soap or towels were, or if there even were any, but she did know how to turn on a shower, and that's what she most wanted right now, water, washing what she'd done away. There was pain deep between her legs, her skinned knees burned, her mouth tasted like blood, there was a smear of dirt across her forehead; Joss wanted it all gone, all of it! Tig wasn't angry, his feelings weren't hurt, but she could tell that she'd shocked him; she'd shocked herself too. But it wasn't the first time. Good God, what was she? She knew soap and water weren't going to remove whatever made her do the things she did, but it would be good to at least feel clean.

She opened the bathroom door surprised to see fuzzy, light blue bath rugs covering the pristine, white, evenly cut floor tiles. Whoever Bobby was, he'd done a great job. And there were towels too, that matched the bath rugs, there was even a pump bottle of light blue foaming hand soap on the white sink, and a light blue shower poof sitting atop a light blue bar of soap on the edge of the tub. Gemma and Tara, it had to be. Joss made a mental note to find out from Tig just what she had to thank each of them for. She pulled the shower curtain with the Forget-Me-Not print across the tub and turned on the water, for a moment able to laugh at the thought of Tig showering behind a cascade of all these happy little flowers. Happy, she'd been that just a few hours ago, where had it gone? She was careful not to look at herself in the medicine cabinet mirror as she stood stripping off her clothes, she just couldn't bear to see herself. Her top, her bra, the skirt, they just barely clung to her, and it felt good to wriggle the rest of the way out of them, but she hoped she'd be able to get the semen stains out of the denim skirt, for she still didn't have a lot of clothes.

Joss stepped into the shower, closing her eyes under the rain of clean water and just stood there, letting it burn her split lip and her skinned up knees as it rolled down her face and body. The pain was remarkably comforting, something she needed to feel, an odd kind of closure that trapped her within it and didn't let anything else touch her. It wasn't the first time that sex with Tig was rough. She could handle it. It wasn't the first time that Tig had hurt her or scared her. She could handle that as well. But it was the first time she'd made him do it, against his better judgment and his will. He'd tried not to fight with her, had given her a warning to shut up and back off, because she knew he didn't want to do something he was going to regret later. But she'd made him do it. And ironically enough now, Tig was fine, but Joss was the one full of regret. The reality of just how much power she had over him, and how easily she could hurt him was startling, like being handed a loaded .45 with a hair-trigger. What if she couldn't get control of it?

Joss reached for the soap, but when she did, she noticed it was speckled with some short, black hairs. Things like that had always grossed her out, but oddly enough she smiled this time as she picked up the soap. Tig, he'd always be with her, somehow. She'd apologized to him, but not nearly enough and she never would have guessed she'd be apologizing to him for something like this. Why did he love her? Nope, he'd never said it, but she knew he did, had for some time now known that "Tell me you love me" was a code Tig didn't know she'd even broken. It would stay that way, she'd never tell him, that was his secret and she'd let him keep it. At least his secret was something good, something noble and sweet. Joss had her own secret, but it was how awful she truly was inside. Why did he love her? She held the soap in both of her hands now, running her thumbs over all the disgusting, little, black, stubbly hairs, and sank to her knees, rocking back and forth on the bottom of the tub, crying as the hot water rained down from above.

Chapter 13; Part 2

The water had been turned off a few minutes ago, but Tig had remained waiting in the one room he hadn't shown her. He had things to do anyway, like find where the hell the box was with the black shoe polish in it. He dug around in one of the two unpacked moving boxes, but it was full of CD's he'd found in an old duffle bag that he'd shoved into the closet of the dorm room when he first moved into the clubhouse all those years ago. Wow, he'd liked 'Journey?' Go figure! What the hell, this house was too quiet anyway, particularly after that deal out on the front steps. Sometimes, sex wasn't about sex at all, and it had started that way, it was only about grinding Joss into the ground and making her sorry. He'd had not control over that, and when he'd come to again, realizing what had happened, Tig was petrified, then royally pissed to realize that Joss had orchestrated the whole thing, used him like he was some kind of…porn puppet! But she was right to do so, and now, looking back on it all, he couldn't help but feel so turned on! Joss however…well, her feelings were at this point unaccounted for.

Tig grabbed the 'Journey' CD and leaned across the bed to the clock/radio/compact disc player on the opposite night table, throwing in their "Greatest Hits" CD and hitting play, resuming his search for the shoe polish as Steve Perry began singing "Don't Stop Believing" in the background. Finally! There it was, he knew he had it, you didn't get through life with a black leather cut that had to be meticulously maintained without black shoe polish. But it wasn't his cut that lay across his lap. Joss, Gemma was right, she had something; she absolutely was going to make it in this life, and make it with him. Tig would never admit it, but he felt a bit foolish for having told Joss otherwise time and time again. That damn girl was tougher than he'd figured, tougher probably than she even knew herself, and the fact that she was still held up in the bathroom seemed to support that.

The master bathroom actually adjoined this room, one door in the hallway lead into the bathroom, but a second one lead from the master bedroom into the bath as well. Joss hadn't closed either of them, but he knew to give her some time alone. When Joss lost it, it was like a flash grenade going off, everything happened without warning, there was some impressive shock and percussion, it was unsettling, and there was always a lot of noise, but generally there was no real carnage…well, save for that one time with her father…and maybe this time, too. But it wasn't the actual detonation that Tig worried about with her. The aftermath of it was always the toughest part for Joss, remembering what she'd said, what she'd done, how she'd done it and why she'd done it stuck to her and fucked with her more than anyone else he'd ever known…except for one person who he refused to think about in that context anymore…and that hadn't ended well. It wasn't going to end that way for Joss though; she had her issues, that was undeniable, but he wasn't going to let her become what he'd become.

A few more minutes had passed with no sign of Joss, though he could hear her moving around in there, opening the medicine cabinet, sighing and then closing it again. Next the water in the sink turned on briefly, but then it was quiet, except for a faint sniffle. Okay, it was time to intercede if she was sitting in there crying still; the shit that went down on the porch wasn't worth all that. Tig got to his feet.

"Hey," he spoke softly as he looked around the door frame, seeing Joss, wrapped in a towel and sitting on the edge of the tub.

"Hey," she replied, and managed a slight smile, but Tig could tell she was still kind of down. She held a rolled up washcloth that she'd dampened in the sink, and she appeared to be dabbing it onto the more scraped up of her knees.

Fuck, it was Thursday, her party…well, their party, was Saturday night, and she'd gone from having casts all over everywhere to this. He hadn't noticed how torn up she'd gotten on the pavement, he'd had jeans on, and he wasn't thinking about…well, in truth, he hadn't been thinking; he was all primal force. Still, he felt a little responsible now. "No, baby, let me get that." He said, his voice still soft, but not because he was forcing it to be.

"Really?" Joss asked, but why she wouldn't believe him Tig wasn't sure…and a little worried.

"Yeah," he looked over his shoulder back into their bedroom for a second. "We got a first aid kit, stay there." He stepped away from the bathroom doorway, the white plastic box with the big red cross on it was somewhere in here…he remembered throwing it down.

"You have a first aid kit?" Joss called from the edge of the tub, and he didn't have to be looking at her to see the look of disbelief on her face. But just as he was about to answer he saw it, laying under a copy of "Hustler."

"No, I didn't get it," he said, grabbing it and going back into the bathroom, trying to determine how it opened as he knelt down in front of Joss. "What's her name…Jax's doctor bitch—"

"Don't call her that," Joss's voice was half sigh, half whine, like she really didn't want to piss him off, but she also really wanted him to know she didn't like what he'd said. "I like her. Her name's Tara."

"Whatever," Tig replied shortly, but some of it was the frustration of trying to open the damn first aid kit. Finally, a latch popped, then another. "Tara," he said, glancing up at Joss and in some way showing her he was being more respectful now, in accordance to her wishes. Joss had been through a lot tonight, why add to it? "She brought it over, said she thought it might come in handy while I was working on the house." Tig looked into the first aid kit now, but he wasn't even sure what he was looking for. There were plenty of things that said "alcohol swab" but he was pretty sure that wasn't a good idea. Why didn't they make something that just said "for skinned knees?" And then he saw a familiar word; ointment. Yeah, that would probably work. "I guess she thinks I'm fucking clumsy or something."

Joss again smiled slightly, but she looked suddenly sad. "She's a good person."

Tig had thought Joss was looking down at what he was about to smear onto her knee, but when he glanced up he saw that she was just looking down, at nothing. "Oh no you don't," he shook his head and lifted her chin up with the hand that wasn't full of first aid ointment. "Don't do this to yourself, Joss, c'mon. It's okay, you know that." Fuck, was there anything in that damn first aid kit he could smear on her self image? Just don't play into this, if he tried to tell her anything different than what she was thinking and saying, she was only going to disagree with him and make herself feel even worse…at least, that's what he'd have done, because that's what he always did. "Don't worry about your patch," he said, changing the subject and hoping he'd found something that might make her happy again as he lightly touched the ointment to her abraded knee, gently spreading it over the entire injury. He wasn't sure exactly how the vest had gotten ripped off of her and snagged on the pavement, but it had been; a ragged little line now marred the supple, black finish up near the shoulder on the front. "I took some shoe polish to it, it'll be dry by morning, and you won't be able to tell anything ever happened to it."

She brightened a bit, made eye contact with him, "Thank you," she said warmly reaching out and putting her hand on his shoulder. Tig felt himself relax into that touch, but all too soon, it was gone, Joss sighing and now shaking her head slowly then looking down again. "One more time I fuck everything up, and you're left cleaning up the mess."

He was squeezing out more ointment onto his finger for the other knee, but he stopped abruptly and sighed. The only way to get this out of her was maybe to order it out of her. "Jocelyn," he hardly ever called her that, and it usually got her attention, but not tonight. "Hey, look at me," as he expected her head lifted and her eyes met his, but she really didn't want him to see her, he could tell. "Now listen to me, because you're my old lady, you're wearing my patch, and there isn't a thing on you or about you that I don't own now, so you'll do what I say," he'd never said those words before to anyone, but it felt strangely good. "Stop doing this shit you're doing. It doesn't go anywhere good. I'm living proof!"

He watched her sigh and fidget and fight it, but ultimately she knew there wasn't anything she could really do after he'd put it to her like that. "But," the word kind of sputtered out of her mouth like a sick engine; it was obvious that shutting up when he told her to was going to be the hardest thing for her to learn how to do, but it was usually like that for any girl someone owned, and in Joss's case he couldn't help wonder if it wasn't just some of that classic teenage rebelliousness at work too. "Can I just ask you one question?"

He put more ointment on his finger now and reached out for her other knee, contemplating his answer. "Yeah, one." He finally said, gently dabbing the ointment against her raw skin. "But I don't have to answer it."

There was that sharp exhale Tig had heard earlier tonight, and Joss crossed her arms in front of her, rolling her eyes. "Never mind."

Oh fuck no, she wasn't! Not again! "Hey!" he snarled, looking away from her knee and glaring up at her, bound and determined to not let this get away from him like it had the first time. "You don't want a second round with me, Joss! You really don't!" He'd have been yelling in her face if it weren't for his clenched teeth. "Now you take all this uppity attitude, and all the 'poor me' bullshit, and you put it someplace where not even fucking Freud would find it! You got it?"

She was defiantly trying to still look angry, but the tears that welled in her eyes betrayed it, as did the way she nodded her head. Good, he really didn't have another flash-bang cluster fuck in him tonight. Jesus Christ, he was trying to be nice to her, tried to show some fucking sensitivity, and she was trying to get all spider monkey crazy on him. Spider monkey? Well, she did sometimes wave her arms around a lot when she lost it…and she screeched. But she was quieter now, looked much more subdued, however, Tig couldn't remember anymore if he'd put ointment on the knee his hand was closest too or not. Damn girl…

"I'm sorry." Her voice surprised him, and he decided he'd just better go ahead and put ointment on her knee, what could it hurt if he'd already put some on anyway?

"It's okay, you'll learn." There was a particularly deep cut on the outside of her knee that looked like it might need extra medicine, but when Tig went to coat the bloody crack with the meds, Joss flinched and hissed in pain. He half smiled. "Now I'm sorry." He smirked.

Joss smiled, but it was clearly out of courtesy. "I didn't mean I was sorry about mouthing off," she said, and wiped at her eye with the back of her hand. "I made you do something you didn't want to do."

Tig couldn't help but burst out laughing; that was just the funniest fucking thing she'd ever said to him. "Joss, do you realize…no, I mean, can you even begin to understand, since I met you, just how many things you've made me do, that I didn't wanna do?"

She looked confused, but she was so confused that she wasn't crying anymore. "No."

"Yeah? Well, me either anymore," he laughed. "I just know it started two years ago with me not wanting to even ask you what your name was, and it ends with me here, with this first aid shit all over my fingers!" To his surprise, there was a very slight, amused and semi proud smile on Joss's face. Tig's own smile widened; he laughed again, wiping the ointment on his jeans and then softly tucking a few strands of her stringy wet hair behind her ear. "You wanna apologize for all the other shit you've somehow or another found a way to make me do, that I never wanted to do?"

Joss sighed, but this time it was because she was feeling better, despite her best efforts. "No." she admitted, her smile becoming harder and harder to disguise.

Tig nodded, but his expression was less smile and more advice now. "Then you gotta let what happened on the steps go too." He said, the hand that had pushed her hair back now softly stroking the back of her head until she looked up at him, her eyes finding his, and she nodded. He smiled again, screwing the cap back onto the tube of ointment, they were done here, everything was all fixed. "Good. I got more freak than Lucky's got charms, baby. You know that, and you were just working an angle on me, it's cool. Okay?"

She smiled more and laughed like she'd been trying not to, but just couldn't help it anymore. "You sound like a beatnik," she said, but was more and more like herself. "But yeah, it's cool."

Yeah, it was…until the next time she freaked out on him it was, anyway, but Tig pushed the thought from his mind for now. The CD was still spinning in the other room, "Faithfully" now pouring out its lyrics in a space and time that made Tig's gut twitch it was so fucking perfect, but what could he do? He hadn't planned it, and even if he ran back in the bedroom now, ripped the CD out of the player and crushed it into prismatic shards, it had still happened, he couldn't make that go away. All that happy stuff he hated that had been filling him up all damn day was beginning to do it again…fuck…but too much had happened tonight for him to try make it go away, or make himself not want to feel it. Jocelyn…that damn girl…sitting there in nothing but a light blue bath towel…he hadn't been completely done with her earlier, but of course, that was not a time where either of them were wanting anything further…but now…Tig dropped the ointment back into the first aid kit, snapping the box closed again, his eyes on every part of her not covered with the towel, and the rest of him somehow able to see through it. "So, you coming out now?" He wanted her, he had for days, and it was all descending upon him now. He wanted her, and after all they'd been through today, Tig could feel that Joss needed him, and he was ready to be there for her, anywhere she wanted him. "I can show you the bedroom."


	14. A Different Ending

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

_Warning:__ This chapter contains __extremely__ graphic descriptions of sexual acts._

Chapter 14

"Does your mouth hurt?" Tig's thumb gently brushed the split in her lip, waiting for her to react. He was calm, nothing like the anxious, apprehensive and frustrated guy who couldn't even talk to her about this moment when they were in the garage. The tour of the bedroom of course hadn't been that lengthy, gray carpet, bluish green walls, a closet, a bunch of cardboard boxes, and a queen size bed, where Tig sat Joss down, standing in front of her, pushing her knees apart slowly and standing between her legs, pulling the long sleeved black t-shirt off over his head.

"A little," Wow, he was taking his shirt off? This was like special occasion fucking! Joss tried hard to stifle herself, she wasn't sure why she was so close to laughing, she wanted Tig, that was running hard and true throughout her body, but she felt jittery. She tried to remember the last time there was a bed involved when he'd fucked her, it was usually a hard, fast and angry ordeal that took place in some back alleyway with just enough clothing pulled down or pulled up to make the act possible. She loved it when he took his shirt off though, he was full of ink, skulls and spider webs and various other ominous things, not to mention his back cover that looked the same as his cut. Joss still had so many fantasies of just laying back with him, his shirt off and her fingers leisurely tracing the lines of all those tattoos. But most of all Joss loved to run her fingers through all those dark hairs on his chest, it was a pleasure she'd often steal when she knew he wasn't paying attention, because Tig had never been big on being touched like that, or being snuggled up against.

He leaned down, both his hands going to the towel that was wrapped around her, his fingers sliding between the light blue fabric and her skin as his lips touched hers, lightly at first, then more when Joss leaned into the kiss, hungry for the taste of his mouth, but before she could have it, he pulled back. "That hurt?" he asked, and pulled the towel away from her body, dropping down to one knee now, his lips on her neck, kissing her and biting her a little harder than just a nibble.

"No," Joss could hardly breathe enough to speak now though, feeling his strong hands cup and start to squeeze her breasts with his usual rough brutishness that only increased instead being satisfied by the feeling of her flesh in his hands, and he squeezed harder, but rubbed both her nipples with his thumbs. That jitteriness was dissolving into the total freedom that giving herself over to him completely always was; she'd always been his, no matter who was fucking her, even before that patch. His mouth slid down her neck, sucking and biting hard enough to leave a series of red marks all the way from her collar bone to her breast, his lips taking the place of his thumb there, sucking hard; trapping her nipple roughly between his teeth. She didn't fight him or protest when took her entire nipple into his mouth and bit down harder, tugging at it until she shuddered against him, then pulling her abruptly and aggressively into him with a hungry grunt, crushing her breast against his bearded chin. Her whole body trembled now as he worried her nipple to a fiery ice then left that breast to give the other the same delightful punishment. Joss wrapped her arms around his neck, not usually allowed to touch him like this, but tonight he was letting her, and she'd needed to so badly! Something like bird's wings fluttered inside her, rattling all her nerve endings to eager attention.

Tig had pulled her so close and had her so locked against him that she could feel the dark hairs on his chest intertwining with the dark curls between her legs, and her thighs were spreading, the soreness deep inside her now a dull pounding that mimicked the beating of her heart, and she felt her slit coming forth with a rush of wetness that she knew Tig noticed, for he sometimes let her bite swollen nipple slip from his mouth in order to breath the scent of her need for his big cock deeply into his lungs. And she did need him inside her, every last inch of length and girth, though she knew it would hurt, but then, that was her own doing.

The scent of her was drawing him hypnotically downwards, away from her graciously sore nipples as he nuzzled his way over her ribs and stomach as gently and sweetly as his blood lust nature would allow him to, not able to resist sucking her skin red here or scraping with his teeth there. He was slowly slipping from her embrace, but the more Joss fought to hold him, the more he growled, his message clear, let him move where he liked. She lessened her frantic grip, but couldn't break contact with him entirely, needing to feel the heat of his body. The palm of one of Joss's hands still pressed into his taut deltoid, every muscle beneath his skin at the ready; prepared to seize upon her should she even think about trying to get away from him. His tongue circled her navel, breathing her dampness in through his mouth now, one of his hands slowly snaking from her back to her hip, over the brand he'd put on her a year ago, fingers disappointingly in no rush to their destination of the flooding crescent between her thighs. Joss's teeth chattered now she shook so much, part of her already feeling like she was penetrated by him, good and deep, but the rest of her still waiting in patient agony. His hand had stalled at the brand on her hip tracing the permanent welts of his initials, and his mouth lingered at her belly, sometimes nipping at the thin skin at the bottom of her ribs, nestling his goatee against her skin. "You're never leaving me, Joss," his voice was just above a whisper, and he didn't look at her or even stop what he was doing, drunk on what he felt and knew she wanted. "Never. I'll fucking kill you first."

"I know," Joss gasped, and she did know, how else could this fucked up thing they had end? What should have been off putting only enhanced how much she needed him, her eyes strained shut as all the desire within her was itself choking her out. Oh God, she just needed him to touch her as deeply as she could be touched! He'd never gone this slowly before; he'd never been so wickedly and perversely sensual, she couldn't take anymore of it, but at the same time wished he'd never stop. Fuck, he could bite her until she bled if he wanted to, she didn't care, just as long as he shoved his hand between her legs and took command of her aching need. Her hips rolled against his chest now, desperate to attract his touch, or at least win some minor relief when her wet, pink folds kissed his tight pectoral muscle, Joss trembling again at the thought of rubbing her engorged clitoris against his hard nipple, and she moaned her longing to do just that.

Chapter 14; Part 2

Tig knew she was sore, but he couldn't help enjoying the little squeal that left her lungs and the way her body had suddenly flinched against his when he'd thrust his finger inside her, relentless in the way he now moved it, rubbing the upper wall of her cunt until he felt her G-spot swelling back against the pad of his digit. He was never sure what it was, but Joss felt like no other woman around his cock or his finger or under his tongue, she was much lusher and softer, but tight and strong, able to stretch around his above average endowment in a surprising but perfect fit. He'd had his doubts that she'd be a decent fuck the first time he'd laid eyes on her pussy. She was pretty and pink, but small; he could shove his finger deep inside her and still rub her clitoris with the palm of his hand. But the way she was made turned out to be a climactic benefit, for with Tig's cock size and the close proximity of her clit to her tight hole it took very little effort on his part to make Joss cum when he fucked her. That had not been something he bothered with when he fucked a woman though, pleasing her? Making her cum? Yeah, that's not what he was there for. But he loved it when Joss came, her body shaking uncontrollably around his, her pussy milking his big cock until it exploded into her, holding him tight inside her like she wanted him, like she loved him…which was the only time it didn't offend him to think that she did.

He could string her along on this flow of anguished bliss forever, and he knew it; Joss was writhing and crying out in a mix of pain and pleasure, her arms trying to pull him closer and push him away as her legs shook around him, her body so confused by what he did to her. But for Tig there was no confusion, but also no pre-planned method of doing this. His cock pounded, trapped between denim and his groin, the head of it nearly stuck out of the waistband of his jeans, its demands pumping through his body and commanding that he make Joss his willing, or unwilling, slave. He could feel the tension rising in her entire pelvis, but with her sitting up the way she was, he could see nothing of what he was doing to her. He leaned against her, the hand that wasn't moving within her churning her wetter and wetter, crept up her back, taking a fistful of her hair and pulling sharply. He heard Joss gasp again and felt her body give another wonderful, startled jump against him, her neck bending back before the rest of her ravished body arched away from him into their bed. Her legs spread wide around him now, her perfume heavier, the only air he breathed, the finger within her was still, but keeping an even pressure against her G-spot that made Joss squirm. He could taste a hint of her on each breath, his cock demanding the satisfaction of being buried deeply inside of her, but Tig was gazing at the perfect flower between her thighs, creamy, white skin and neatly trimmed and shaved dark curls framing lavish, succulent, pink petals, in full bloom before him. How could he not devour her?

She was reaching for him again, his name on her lips in small, barely able to breathe, huffs, her need clearer than even the way Tig swallowed in anticipation of the taste of her as he bent his head downwards over her slit. He could see her full breasts rise and fall with the uneven, desperate pace of her breathing, but it was her inner thigh that won the first touch of his tongue, the tip of it pushing fiercely into her skin, so near the place he knew she wanted him, so near the spot his mouth watered for, prolonging the sweet torture for them both. She groaned in anxious frustration, her legs tensing, saying his name as though it were a prayer for salvation, her hips moving as if he was fucking her then and there. Tig's cock raged at that recognition of her movements and pushed a few drops of slippery clear fluid from the dilated slit in its head, Tig grit his teeth and growled again, raising his head for a moment with tightly closed eyes, willing himself not to cum here and now. His own control was jeopardized by how much Joss wanted him, and without anymore teasing, he buried his lips and tongue within the rich, glistening crinolines of her pussy, immediately sucking hard at whatever his mouth found. Joss nearly screamed, sitting half way up off of the bed, laying quickly back again and shoving her wet pussy more onto his mouth, drenching his mustache and bearded chin, but being lost in the taste of her was something Tig would never get enough of.

There was a hint of the soap she'd washed with, but Joss's taste was unforgettable, a dusky combination of melon and ocean waters that Tig swore he sometimes awoke with in his mouth despite having not seen her in months. His tongue swept through her folds as his finger kept contact with the swollen, spongy mass of her G-spot, Joss becoming unable to lie still, but Tig didn't stop. He drew back his assault only a bit, reining in his tongue to instead lightly and slowly kiss his way to the top of her slit, where her erect clitoris dared his direct contact. He'd been blessed with the ability to roll his tongue, and roll it he did, fitting the groove it made over her clit, Joss bucking as soon as he'd done so, but shaking the bed with how rambunctious she became when he began to move his tongue up and down, fucking her stiff little organ with his genetic gift. Joss cried out more and more, louder and louder, her body spastic as she tried to free herself of such an intense sensation, her hips raising off the bed and twisting away from him as she ground out a plea for mercy, but Tig's tattooed forearm quickly slammed down across her stomach, pinning her down where he wanted her, eating her alive, and giving her no quarter.

Christ, what her taste did to him! Each slippery bit of her on his tongue filled so much more than only his mouth, seeming to lodge in his chest and explode there, reaching all parts of his body, making his soft cock hard, or his hard cock no longer able to repress. Joss's slit was drawing up tightly beneath his mouth and tongue, she was breathing harder than ever, lying still beneath the strength of his arm, trapped within the first throes of orgasm, but Tig's need could no longer be denied. He pulled away from her painfully aroused clitoris sharply, abandoning her pussy in order to quickly unbuckle his belt and free his angry cock from his jeans. He needed to fuck her, there was no more delaying it.

But Joss was frantic, doing anything to renew the contact they'd shared, reaching out and somehow managing to pull him down above her, Tig unable to fight the urge to kiss her and share with her the taste of her own elixirs. His mouth moved over hers, her lips mimicking his, parting when his did, touching her tongue to his, letting him suck at hers, feeling him slowly pull away from their kiss, but she patiently waited for him to return to her mouth again, this time with more voraciousness that she willingly accepted, having learned well how to respond to what he did to her, but do nothing until he told her to.

His mouth twisted over hers, sucking and biting her lips for some amount of incredible seconds as he positioned himself between her legs, his jeans still on, but he rubbed his hard cock against her pussy, feeling Joss shudder once again, which only made Tig kiss her harder and deeper, until suddenly he realized he was wrapped in her arms, tightly. He broke from their kiss in an instant, sitting up and yanking off his belt quickly, the leather cracking in the air like a whip. "Don't!" He reminded her, but she should have known by now that he wouldn't be held, wouldn't be something that sought out the intimacy of being touched like that, but the reasons for why didn't feel the same as they once did. He grabbed her hands before Joss could react, she just sucked in a rapid breath as he forced her wrists together then pushed them down onto the mattress over her head, binding them with his belt, Joss doing nothing to stop him, she knew better, only flinching one more time as he gave the leather a tight yank. She looked up at him, not scared, but sorry, arching her back off of the bed in some sort of way of offering her body to him for him to enact her punishment upon. Seeing that kind of submissiveness come alive in her sent another surge of crazed desire through him, he tore his jeans completely off, big cock screaming for her pussy as he pushed her legs wider apart, the throbbing head against her slick, convulsing entrance, but that part of him that for some reason always noticed the most annoying of emotional things when his body was at the peak of starving for gratification now noticed the sadness in Joss's eyes that she'd tried so hard to hide. There was no removing the hunger that ruled his brain and body, but that same damn part of him was able to look down at her and shake his head, "I'm sorry, baby. But I just can't," He gasped, then tugged the end of the belt securing her hands even tighter, and slammed every last inch of his cock inside her as far as it would go.

Chapter 14; Part 3

Joss wasn't sure how long she'd slept, or just how soon after Tig rolled off of her that she'd fallen asleep, but she was awake now, and wasn't sure what to do. Tig had been unyielding tonight, which was how he usually was. He'd refused to be in her arms, which was also normal, but he'd kissed and licked and bit her so much, taking his time in a way that had been unexpected. And now he was fast asleep beside her, not spooning her by any stretch of imagination, but he was there, sleeping next to her. They had of course been "practicing" sleeping together in Jax's old bed, but Joss was certain his presence tonight was more due to exhausted accident than it was suddenly comfortable for Tig. Yeah, she better just find another place to be, just incase.

She tried to sit up, but something wouldn't let her, her arm caught under something…it was Tig's arm, his hand holding hers, their fingers married together. It took Joss's breath away, but before she could truly marvel at it, Tig stirred, face down in his pillow. "Stay!" he said suddenly, startling her then turned his face towards her. "Please."


	15. Cold Comfort

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

_Warning:__ This chapter contains scenes of a sexual nature that may be disturbing to some readers._

Chapter 15

There was movement beside her and Joss woke for a second time. It was just before dawn now, she peered out of the window their bed was below, thinking how ungainly this moment of day always was, the transition where it wasn't night, but not yet day, bands of bewildered black, gray, blue and crimson striping the sky as it tried to determine what it was itself. She was lying on her side, her hand no longer clasped within Tig's as she was now facing away from him, but she could feel him stretching beside her, careful in his movements as if he didn't want to wake her. He likely didn't, probably would avoid any kind of conversation after what happened, what with holding her hand, and then ordering her, no asking her to stay…he had said "please." That was fine, the night had been incredible, though it had left her rather sore and bruised in places where he'd bitten her a little harder than she thought. She'd let Tig have silence this morning, he deserved to not be confronted with her tender smile that would only speak volumes of what she knew about him that he'd always tried to pretend wasn't in there. She closed her eyes, the awkward gray light in the room disappearing again as Joss feigned unconsciousness.

"Joss," His voice had been the last thing she'd expected to hear, what did he want? What could he have to say to her, or was this going to be the explanation…he was fucked up on whiskey last night, he'd been smoking Mexican Red and it had just mellowed him out tooooo much, he'd been beamed up by aliens who had sent down some kind of replacement Tig that didn't know what the "rules of engagement" were, so to speak. There had to be something, an excuse or some kind of repercussion, though Joss didn't fear any type of violence from him, because that would have been too obvious a line to draw between his out of place affection and any cruelty, and Tig was much more twisted than that. "You awake?"

"Yeah." She made her voice sound groggier than what it truly was, not wanting him to think she'd been laying there contemplating the whole hand holding, "stay, please" thing for hours, or even minutes. She didn't move, still thinking he probably didn't want her to see his face right now.

She felt the mattress depressing as he moved closer to her, and before she knew it, his arm slipped between her neck and the pillow, pulling her back to his chest gently, then his hand clamped firmly over her mouth. "No, you're not!" It was an order, stern and not to be ignored, but his lips lightly brushed her earlobe, his other hand stroking over the slope of her hip, only his fingertips grazing her skin in a way that made Joss shudder against him all over again, but as soon as she did, Tig's grip on her tightened, the hand over her mouth forcing her lips against her teeth painfully. "Don't move," he whispered, and she felt the big, round head of his hard cock brush the back of her thigh as his free hand pushed her leg forward a bit, opening her crotch. "Don't do anything," he told her as if he held a knife to her throat, moving even more and more against her, kissing her neck a few times as lightly as he could, nuzzling his whiskered chin against her skin as he took his cock in his hand and guided it between her legs, stopping a moment to spit into his hand, then wipe both his shaft and her well used pussy with saliva. Once more she could tell he was holding his cock, his hips pressing into hers as he pushed the head through the tight ring of the sheath he'd pummeled only a few hours ago. "Just let me…" but his voice was cut off by a deep groan as he sank into her, slowly, gently, stopping a moment once he was in to stroke his hand over her thigh, stomach and tenderly cup her breast, but he never relinquished the hand over her mouth. Joss wanted to move, unable to believe she was finally getting this from him, but he'd told her not to, didn't even want her to acknowledge what he did…like she was…Oh God!

Did this mean it was true? She'd heard the rumors, from Tig himself, but for some reason she'd always assumed it was just something he put out there to repulse everyone, or maybe that was only what she'd hoped? But she refused to panic, she knew that being with him, that being Tig Trager's old lady, was not going to be like being anyone else's old lady. And besides, it was obvious how good this felt to him, he moaned and took a new kind of enjoyment of her body, thrusting slowly, grinding against her with a loving gentleness that wouldn't let Joss be repulsed by anything he did. She was lying to herself by trying to pretend it didn't feel good, it did, she'd always dreamed of Tig being like this with her, making love to her slowly and caringly, but she'd up until now never actually believed he could. He was so unlike what she'd come to know of him, touching her everywhere like she was made of the finest silk, kissing her body without his teeth digging into her skin, it felt so strange. It wasn't going to last much longer though, she could already feel his cock swelling and pounding inside of her, and he was thrusting it faster and faster, hand still clamped over her mouth as he moaned softly into her shoulder where he'd tucked his head, his whole body seemed curled around hers, and then he came with a loud gasp, peace settling over him and his body completely still, just like he'd ordered her to be.

He held onto her for a few more seconds while he caught his breath, then pulled his softening cock out of her, let go and sat up as though nothing had happened. Joss lay there, wondering if she could move now, or if she was still supposed to be…Oh God, she didn't want to really think about what she was supposed to be!

Tig got to his feet, stretching again and yawning. "Hey, you drink coffee?" He asked, as if nothing even the tiniest bit strange and horrifying had just happened.

Did she? Dead bodies didn't drink anything…Oh God, now she was getting used to this weird, role playing…role playing? No, this was just flat out playing dead! Oh God! Alright, enough, this was going to get worse if she made it worse. She knew Tig had his perversions; it was only a matter of time before she got pulled into them, she could either hack it, or she couldn't, and she preferred to think that she could. At least this way, not only was he satisfied, but she was still breathing! And it wasn't like this was the only way Tig could get off; she'd known him for how long? They'd fucked how many times? And this was the first time this…kind of thing…had ever happened? Okay, it was just a quirk; maybe even a test to see just what she was willing to do for him, how far she'd go. He'd invested in her by giving her that patch after all, and he had his right to make sure she would be there for him in any way, shape or form , no matter what. It was over; she'd gotten through it, no harm, no foul…sort of…so she might as well stop dwelling on it and just answer the call of resurrection.

"Sometimes," she finally said, but had to remind herself that she could move now, sitting up on the bed, but finding it a little hard to look at him now…she'd just seen a bit more than she'd ever bargained for.

"There's some in the kitchen," he said as he walked towards the bathroom. "I gotta get to work in like an hour, Clay's got three tune ups for me to do, one drive chain and a really fucked up fuel system on an old Titan he won't let anyone else touch." Joss couldn't help watching him as he walked naked through the bathroom doorway, she could count on one hand the times she'd actually seen him completely nude, and despite the revolting start to the morning she was still more than attracted to his hairy chest, tall lanky build and wiry frame. The next time this…thing…happened between them, she'd focus on Tig's body and how it looked, how it felt up against hers and inside her, and it wouldn't be so bad. It was feeling better now, even! She was briefly disappointed when his voice, from inside the bathroom as he turned on the shower, interrupted her thoughts. "If you could put some on for me that would be great."

Put what on? Oh shit, she'd gotten so carried away with amending the memory of what happened that she'd completely forgotten what they were talking about. Oh! Coffee! "Yeah, sure, I can do that." She answered, and gradually began to smile when she realized what she was being asked to do, for whom and by whom! Since she met him she'd been dreaming of the morning when she'd rise before a sleepy Tig, who never wanted to get out of bed, and be off on her merry way to make him breakfast, and then send him off to work with a kiss. Wow, it was actually happening! Well, minus the weird detour this morning, it was! Oh God, he'd imagined she was a…no, stop it, she could deal with it, she just had to stop thinking about it. Back to living out her silly dream…that unlike Tig's, had no corpses in it. Oh God! No, focus on breakfast! How unbelievable was this? Not just that some of the things she'd always wanted were now a reality, but also the reality that they were happening in! Joss had suffered, survived and rejoiced in things that most girls her age had never even imagined, and for as jaded and hateful as she realized she should have been, she still couldn't help but carry that bubbly, silly teenager inside her who wanted to write Tig's name all over her notebook, dotting the "i" with a heart. She was his, there was no getting away from that, not ever, and in that, he was hers, and so were all the things that made him Tig…all of them!

Chapter 15; Part 2

"That's a nice shirt, huh?" He smiled when he'd seen Joss standing there in the kitchen, all the cabinet doors were open and she was now looking in the refrigerator for something that she could make him for breakfast, but as Tig already knew, there was nothing. That was okay though; black coffee and a cigarette did more for him than it did for most people. Even more endearing than her intentions though was the way she looked wearing the long sleeved black t-shirt that he'd taken off the night before. When he'd first started fucking her, if he'd woke up and found her wearing his shirt, he'd have made her pay for touching his stuff, but now she was his, a lot of things had gone down, and all he really noticed was how her gorgeous, heart shaped ass showed out the bottom of his shirt when she reached up for something. Damn, too bad he had all those bikes to get to at work! But there was something else about her that had made him smile; Joss was small, maybe not the most petite thing there was, but the way his t-shirt dwarfed her she really did look waif like…add to it that she was searching through bare cupboards, she was so damn cute he had to laugh. Fuck, he was making use of the word "cute" now too?

Joss looked down at what she wore as if she'd forgotten what she'd put on, but then she smiled. "Oh, sorry." She said, obviously thinking that he'd have been none too happy that she was wearing his shirt about a year ago too, but she wasn't pensive about it now. "I realized when I got out of bed that all my clothes are still over at Clay and Gemma's house, and the clothes I had on yesterday got kinda—"

"Yeah," Tig nodded, afraid that if she started in with the whole step ordeal again that it might set up that downward spiral again too. "I'll call Gemma and see if she can drop your stuff off to you," he reached into the pocket of his gray Teller-Morrow Auto Shop uniform and pulled out a cigarette. "Cuz I want my shirt back!" He smirked at her.

Joss smiled but shook her head. "It looks better on me!" She teased, looking at him over her shoulder as she reached for the coffee cup on the counter.

Tig lit his cigarette and stepped closer, slipping an arm around her waist, wondering just what the hell his intentions were, because he'd just sort of done it, but it didn't feel bad…at all. He smirked at her again, "Fuck little girl, everything looks better with tits in it!"

She sighed but then couldn't help giggle. "You're such an ass!" She tried to reach for the coffee pot next, but Tig leaned down and quickly kissed her, surprising them both with the little peck. What was he doing now? What had he done last night? What the hell would he do next?

"Watch it!" He still smiled, but there was enough dangerous foreboding in his voice to make Joss take note. He hadn't really been offended, but she had to learn, this was all part of breaking her in. A comment like that one in front of the club would not be tolerated. Shit! The party, her clothes! "Hey," he reached into the back pocket of his jeans, grabbing his wallet. "Take this," he handed her some cash as she handed him a cup of coffee. "Get yourself something for Saturday night, something you like, instead of what…Tara…gave you." He'd almost done it again, but remembered at the last minute, Joss liked Jax's doctor bitch.

Joss's eyes quickly fell over the money in her hand, and in less than a second she looked up a bit shocked at him. "Are you sure? This is one hundred and fifty dollars!"

"How'd you count that so—" but Tig cut himself off, "Oh, yeah." Of course, she was a genius; numbers, sequences, words, if Joss saw them once, she remembered them forever. "And yeah, I'm sure." He lifted the coffee cup to his lips, the taste of it was shockingly good, and he suddenly remembered he hadn't been the one that made it…it actually tasted like coffee. He took a drag from the cigarette and then set it into the ashtray on the table, finding the coffee Joss had made more enjoyable than his smoke. So far, excluding a few little moments of spider monkey crazy, this fucked up thing with Joss was perfect!

"Thank you," she smiled, but he could tell she felt strangely taking money from him. But then, he'd never given it to her before. Why didn't he feel strange giving her money? Oh hell, it was just too damn early in the day to start doing these mental gymnastics. "Gemma wants me to go with her tomorrow to get my hair done for Saturday night, so I'll just save it for that, okay?"

Tig took another swallow of the coffee she'd made, that was the first decent coffee to have been made in this kitchen, and shook his head. "No, just go do what you need to do, and don't worry about it, it's on me now, not you, okay?" Old ladies, property patches…they did come with a price tag…but it would be worth it to be showing off a hot ass beauty queen on Saturday night!

But Joss sighed again, looking down at the money and still feeling uncomfortable with it. "I know, but—"

He stood. "No!" He said austerely, placing his hands on her shoulders. "You have to learn that when I tell you something, your job is just to nod to your head and say 'yes.' That's all, don't think." He'd been conscious of his tone, put effort into not really yelling at her, trying to be patient as Joss learned and settled into what it was to be "property," but how long was it going to take? He was confident she'd get it eventually, after all when he told her what to do or what not to do in bed, she always listened, sometimes getting lost in a moment and forgetting herself, but even then, as soon as he told her what to do, she did it…no matter what it was…she did it.

Tig wasn't ashamed of what happened this morning, but well, okay, he was a little, but he'd had his reasons for doing it…maybe Joss should know them? They always communicated very well sexually, verbally or nonverbally, and maybe that's why she always obeyed his every word then? Fuck, but now this was verging on communicating feelings, and nothing sucked more than that! "I gotta get going," he told her, glancing over her shoulder at some imaginary clock behind her. He let go of her shoulders, reached for the cup and took a final swallow of coffee, retrieved his cigarette and took a long, last drag from it. "I'll call you around lunch," he said, exhaled the smoke and crushed out the butt.

"Yes," Joss smiled, while nodding her head.

Tig laughed, she really was trying. He turned to grab his cut and get his keys, but that part of him that always saw things when the rest of him didn't want to look for them was at it again. Joss was trying. He sighed and then turned back around to her, feeling like he should do something like take her hands or something, but all he could muster was standing there stiffly. "Look," he began, glancing down at the kitchen floor for a moment. "You haven't said shit about this morning…" he paused and looked at the floor again. "But I know it had to freak you out a little."

She flinched, her eyes wide like he'd discovered something she'd been trying to hide. "No, it's okay!" She shook her head and tried to frantically explain. "I unders—"

"No, you don't." Tig half laughed, but he couldn't have been more serious. "Believe me, you don't!" He insisted, then sighed again, trying to find words that weren't going to sound like…well, what he meant, but what the fuck kind of sense did that make? "I know you want…things from me that I'm not very good at giving you." Joss looked like she wanted to talk again; her eyes wide once more, but he immediately shushed her. "I'm trying…I mean, I can't make any promises or anything…but I'm doing my best here, Joss. But, you just gotta let me get there my way," there he'd said it…and it didn't sound too much like he was working on his intimacy issues…did it? "Is that good?" He asked, but was too afraid of what he'd just said, and her pending answer, to stick around and find out. He leaned down again and gave her another quick kiss on the mouth, then turned and walked away.


	16. Sleeping Beauty

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 16

Joss sighed as she watched out the window of the salon. She knew this was going to happen, and now she was feeling a bit like it was all taking too long. Her nails weren't anywhere near dry, black polish, medium length, a Maltese cross decal on her right thumb, then the letters S.O.A. on the next three fingers, framed by another Maltese cross on her little finger. On her left hand, it was a skull decal with tiny red rhinestone eyes on her little finger, then the letters T.I.G. on her ring, middle and index finger, with another red, crystal eyed skull on her thumb. She'd been so excited about getting her hair done, and her nails, and her make up! She'd never enjoyed the pageant thing, and there had been a fair share of hair and makeup that went into it, but it was all her father's doing. This time though, she could decide herself what she wanted, what type of look she'd like have, and it was nothing like that immaculate satin doll thing her father had always forced her to get when she walked out in pursuit of some stupid crown. This was self expression, unleashing who she really felt like she was, true freedom, and it had been so long since she'd been allowed any of this.

When Gemma had dropped the news on Friday that the salon was all booked up and that their plans would have to wait until Saturday, Joss had felt more crushed than she'd expected. In the end though it hadn't mattered, as Gemma, with Abel in tow, had come over to drop off all of her stuff and then they'd gone out shopping for more clothes instead, Tara joining them for lunch. The only problem was that tonight was the party, at 8pm, and Tig had been adamant about them arriving together, on his bike, even though Joss knew that time wise, with her 4pm hair appointment, it would be better if she and Gemma left the salon together and went to the clubhouse from there. Joss had tried to explain the undetermined amount of time things like nails and makeup and washing, cutting, coloring, drying and styling hair would take, but it fell on the deaf ears of someone whose only comb was permanently attached to the end of his arm. There was just no arguing with Tig about it, and now there he was, on his bike, parked across the street, waiting, for over a half an hour now. It was making Joss nervous.

"I still don't know about this red," sighed Gemma, coming up behind Joss where she sat at the nail drying station and running her own newly manicured fingers through the long, sleek, shiny, shade away from jet black tresses that Joss had decided to have some fun with and color the very bottom inch of a very gothic looking electric red. "But I love the fringe bangs! Very sexy!" She smiled.

"Thanks," Joss smiled back always so happy when Gemma sounded like her mother, and she was eager to get Tig's opinion too…at least she was if he wasn't out there getting more pissed by the second because he'd been waiting so long. Tig wasn't used to this whole salon thing, and he certainly didn't wait for women. This was not going to be a good night, or a good time to meet his brothers if he was ticked with her! She looked out the window again, subtly directing Gemma's attention to what she was watching. "You see that?" Joss asked, indicating her man, who was somehow reclined on his bike with only one boot on the pavement. "I tried to tell him this was going to be awhile, so I hope this doesn't all get to be my fault somehow."

Gemma rolled her eyes in Tig's direction, obviously not concerned. "If Tigger were pissed off, he'd be in here right now making a scene." She said, leaning down a little next to Joss, and pointing to how relaxed Tig was on his bike. "Believe me, there comes a time and a temper for a guy like him when even the mysterious, unnatural ambiance of a beauty shop is penetrable." She looked back at Joss and smiled again, giving her long, straight, silky black hair another stroke. "Let him wait," she suggested, her tone all matriarchal advisement. "It teaches him that you're worth it, and you are." She smiled, and patted Joss's shoulder.

Chapter 16; Part 2

It was the sound of high heeled boots that kept getting closer and closer to him that made Tig open his eyes. He hadn't really been asleep, but hell, what else was there to do? Joss had kept insisting this was going to take a long time, but come on, how much hair did she have? But when he sat up and looked in the direction of the footsteps, how long he'd been waiting didn't matter to him anymore.

"Hi," she smiled at him, her usual five foot seven inch frame now a good three inches taller with the heels she wore, black leather boots with a series of little chains that dangled across the front of them from one silver stud to another. She wore some kind of black leggings or something, what they were Tig wasn't sure, but they were like liquid the way they just hugged her sweet ass and long legs, showing off every fine, fucking, luscious curve of all of them! A close fitting heather gray tank, that looked like a lingerie item to Tig, was underneath her property patchy, which she'd laced tightly closed, really cinching in her tiny little waist and amplifying those 34 double D's that were his, all his! Around her neck was a leather choker, like a dog collar almost, there was even a little split ring on it with a little heart shaped piece of metal that read, "Tig's," and the dot over the "i" was a tiny little heart. Her lips were bright red, eyeliner black, drawn out into little wings at the outer corners of her eyes that gave her some exotic kind of Cleopatra look. And her hair, long, straight, her bangs evenly cut across her forehead, but slightly parted above one sparkling green eye and arching eyebrow. Her hair was darker than he'd been expecting, a good three shades darker than her natural color, but damn, it made her skin look so white, so pale and cool.

Without thinking, Tig had straightened himself up on his bike, pushed his shoulders out to make them look broader, sucked his stomach in and stuck his chest out, all the unconscious things men did when an incredibly beautiful woman they hoped to impress walked by. She couldn't have had his attention more than she did unless she bent down and started sucking his cock right there and then…if he didn't get control of himself, he'd be needing that soon! He'd thought she was perfect the very first time he'd seen her…but this, he was totally taken aback, had to remove his sunglasses and stare at her again without the obstruction of the darkened lenses, all he could do was stare, and feel a little underage. "Jesus Christ, Joss!" He gasped, reaching out like he wanted to touch her, but feeling like he wasn't good enough to.

Joss sighed, her shoulders drooping. "You don't like the red, do you?" She fanned her gleaming black nails through her ebony hair, her fingers so white, and she looked down at the blood red ends; otherwise, Tig would never have noticed them, his eyes were elsewhere. "It's okay," she said, looking at him and trying to quickly explain everything, before he got mad. "I had the bottom dyed red, because if you hate it, then I can just cut it off, and it won't be a big deal."

Tig finally saw the whole picture, her luxurious body, perfect white skin, the contrast of the black leather of her patch, and the silky jet hair, tipped with red, like little devil's tails. "No!" he hadn't meant to sound that damn excited about the whole thing, but too late. "Don't, I like it, it's…" Shit, no one in the club had a woman like this! There was not a piece of pussy at the clubhouse, or had their ever been a piece of pussy around SAMCRO, that was anything close to the Goddess that stood before him now…and she was HIS Goddess! Finally he broke a smile, "Turn around," he told her, wanting to see the words "PROPERTY OF TIG" on her back…fuck, he was walking into this party tonight with this long, tall, sweet, dark, phenomenally sexy creature from out of his dreams on his arm. Damn, they were already going to be showing up late for this party…no time to take her some place and fuck the hell out of her for looking like that! "Joss, you look…fucking amazing!"

"Really?" A smile exploded across her face at his approval. "I do?"

"Oh yeah," he groaned assuredly, not able to help smiling himself, and wishing he could get over the way she looked, but he just couldn't…she was perfect! "It's kinda goth," he said indicating her black eyeliner with the wings, the dog collar and her hair, "but not too goth, just enough…I love it!"

Joss's smile got even bigger and she stepped closer to him. "So you're not upset that it took so long?" She asked, trying not to pay too much attention to the fact that he'd let slip that he "loved" it, but Tig knew she wanted to. Before he knew it, his arms wrapped around her waist and he was pulling her onto the bike, facing him. "I told you to call me before you came, so I could tell you how much longer it was going to be, I didn't want you to have to wait."

He just shook his head. "It's cool, Joss, forget it." He was pulling her closer, but why? Shit, was he going to kiss her again when they weren't even fucking? Yeah, he was, and then he did, his lips touching hers lightly, but not for long, his hand all of a sudden at the back of her head, cradling it and turning it to the side just a bit as his mouth opened against hers and his tongue grazed hers lightly, pulling away teasingly every time she seemed to want more, just like he was eating her pussy.

"You were still supposed to call me, Jackass." He heard Joss kind of laugh, and realized too late that he couldn't see her…because he'd pressed her head down against his chest. Motherfucker! But, it was better off forgotten about, why ruin this because he'd fucked up?

"I'm sorry, baby," he answered, but pushed her away from him gently as he spoke, his hands on her shoulders now as he looked at her, she was so pretty. But, he had to snap out of this, as pleasant as it was…he couldn't be like this in front of the club. Then Tig smirked, chuckled evilly. "You Jackass," he said to Joss, then smirked and chuckled some more. "There, we good now?"


	17. The Bearded Lady

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 17

Tig never held her hand, but he did now as they walked towards the clubhouse. This was different though, this was showing ownership, showing possession of her, it was spelled out on her back that she belonged to him, but he was making it known in a physical sense as well. Joss tried hard not to smile, but damn it made her feel good!

She hadn't been thinking "goth" when concocting her new look, but once Tig had said it, she could instantly see it, and she'd found herself trying to steal glances of not just herself in any reflective surface there was around her, but also at Tig and the way she looked standing beside him. She loved how she looked, and she loved how looking this way made her feel, there weren't many girls in Charming with the style she now had, but she hadn't gone too far had she? She looked like she belonged with him, right? He wore the blue button down shirt that was her very favorite on him, his spectacular blue eyes were so dreamy when he wore that shirt, and he'd rolled up the sleeves, the demon queen inked on his forearm visible, the leather wrist cuffs giving an illusion of some kind of great power restrained within his bare arms. The rest of him was dark denim and black, the knife strapped to his thigh with the silver conchos on the sheath that always tinged his overall look with the flavor of some Desperado from out of the old west. His cut completed it all, and Joss wished she could somehow see both of them from behind, rocker to rocker and reaper to reaper! There was an old windshield laying up against the fence as they walked towards the clubhouse, and Tig stopped there, looking ahead, but it afforded Joss the chance to check out their reflection in better detail. There they were, he was tall, tanned, dangerous dominance, and she was dulcet darkness, eerily beautiful and completely under his command.

There were bikes everywhere, so many that a decent amount had to be parked on the street and around the garage as overflow. She'd never been to a SAMCRO party before, but Tig's semi-annoyed reaction told her that this was not normal. "Shit!" He half groaned, looking at all the bikes and all the bikers and scantily clad women that crowded around the entrance to the clubhouse. He sounded like he now expected a tedious night to be ahead of him, or maybe he was even having second thoughts about going into that throng. "What is this? Fucking Sturgis?"

Joss looked up to him, more than only paying attention to his words, but awaiting his instruction, ready to comply with whatever he put to her tonight, for she had to be on her very best behavior this evening, do whatever Tig said, stay either with him, or where he put her, if she needed or wanted anything, ask him, and above all else, don't look like any of it was unnatural. "Maybe the beer is really good tonight?" She smiled pushing away the growing "side show attraction" kind of feeling that the size of the massive crowd seemed to project.

"Yeah," Tig looked ahead still at all the bikes and bikers, shaking his head like he was a little pissed. "I'm sure that's why they all decided to come, tonight." He let go of her hand and took a few steps towards an old FXR Superglide with the name "Blade" painted in scrawling letters on the fuel tank. "You see this?" He asked with increasing provocation, "This bastard only goes on one run a year with the club, and all the rest of these other motherfuckers would shit their pants if I showed up at their front door! But fuck, they're all here now!" He looked out at all the bikes, hands clenched into fists with the obvious disrespect he was feeling. "You know, that's one thing the fucking Pagans did right, they stay small, everyone knows everyone else's name and shit…I don't even know some of these assholes," he said looking at her for a second, then back at the mass of bikes. "But they know me, God Damn it! And they're all here to see what's mine!"

To be honest Joss was a little surprised to see the turnout at this party too, but she wasn't worried, she'd been to meets about this size, or larger, where she was usually traded from club to club, or brother to brother, never knowing where she'd end up next. It was the knowledge that she was safe from all of that tonight which pushed away any nervousness. She walked over to Tig, he was facing away from her, and she softly placed her hand on his back. He turned his head and looked down at her, wondering why she'd touched him without him asking her to do so, but there was no malice in his expression, only an odd wounded look in his eyes that Joss understood. Having a woman in his life obviously had changed how people thought of him. He was the Reaper of the reaper crew, if any one of the owners of all these bikes fucked up, Tig took care of it, permanently. But now that word had gotten out about this property patch, it meant two things: he was not totally the unfeeling, coldhearted, maniacal sociopath that had made his name what it was in the world of MC's, and not just SAMCRO, but it also meant that he'd been "taken down" by someone who got to him enough to earn his patch, and everyone wanted to know who and what could do that!

But Joss smiled, looking at him with sweet, understanding, coal lined eyes. "Tig, I got this!" She said confidently. "I've been forced into evening gowns and swimsuits and memorized stock, bubble-headed answers to questions like 'what would you do to end world hunger?' since I was four years old! This isn't any different, baby." She smiled again though Tig looked unmoved, unconvinced still. "Yeah, I mean the crowd is obviously not the same, but it's the same shit. I got this!" All of a sudden it had occurred to her how much she sounded like him, but that was good, because she needed to tonight.

Tig sighed, but the heaviness in his eyes lightened. "Little girl," he said, looking levelly at her, wanting her to make no mistake in understanding what he said to her. "We go in there tonight, and it's going to be like that old AC/DC song, 'the claim is on you, the sights are on me.'" He paused, stroking his fingers through her midnight hair, then bringing his hand to her face and lightly cupping her cheek, his eyes imploring her to please be able to do what she'd just promised. Every eye would be on her, and also on him, everyone would be waiting for a show.

Joss couldn't help but close her eyes when his hand held her cheek, and she leaned into his touch. She nodded, because it was all she could do at the moment. But Tig's hand was soon gone, dropping this time to intertwine his arm around hers as he took her hand, locking her fingers in between his, her white forearm pressed to his tattoo. He looked at the crowd one more time, sneered, then shook it off and looked back at her, about to take a step forward. "You good?"

Joss smiled; her answer simple. "I'm with you."

Chapter 17; Part 2

Messing around with someone's old lady was punishable by death. And if anyone so much as stared at Joss for too long, they were dead right then and there! Jesus Christ, what was he doing walking such a beautiful girl through this mass of half drunken trash? Yeah, they were all wearing reaper cuts; they were all his brothers, but if any one of them touched Joss…

"There they are!" Tig suddenly heard Clay's voice above the all the music and talking and occasional sound of a small caliber weapon being fired. It had taken forever to get into the clubhouse, back into the inner sanctum by the bar where he knew his immediate brotherhood would be. Fuck, he'd never heard his name being called or said so many times in one night than he did just trying to get back here, holding Joss's hand so tightly that his fingers were whiter than hers were. He sometimes recognized a face or two, but the name was nowhere in his memory, guys he'd maybe met once or twice, or even not at all, were all swarming around him and Joss, complimenting him on her, asking questions about where he'd gotten her and was she legal, the individual voices lost against the constant barrage of cheers and cat calls that emanated as soon as anyone got a good look at Joss's face, or hourglass shape…Jesus Christ, he wanted them all dead, and just pushed through the crowd, ignoring them all and finally picking Joss up in his arms and carrying her the rest of the way into the clubhouse in fear that he couldn't protect her any other way. To her credit, she'd remained quiet the entire time, her eyes on the ground, looking at no one, just following along behind him in silence no matter what she heard being said about her. She'd always been too beautiful to be around this shit, and tonight Tig might as well have been walking his dark little angel through a prison yard full of men who hadn't seen a woman in years.

"Hey!" Clay smiled and sort of growled as Tig put Joss down, because it was safe now, he knew everyone here. In no time he was greeted with Clay's one armed hug, and a beer bottle was pushed into hand. "Didn't think you'd get here," Clay smiled, holding his own beer.

"Yeah, me either," Tig answered, the irritation over it all still in his voice, but fading. "What the hell is this, man?" But suddenly the tail end of a conversation between Juice and Bobby caught his attention, and Tig laughed.

"I'm telling you, dude!" Juice was saying convincingly to Bobby. "The last party, I got too fucking wasted to do anything about it, but there was this skinny chick, standing on her head in the corner, and she wanted me man, she stared at me all night!"

Bobby clenched a cigar in his mouth, squinting and nodding like he knew something Juice didn't, and Tig couldn't help but tell Juice what it was. "That's because she was a mop!"

Everyone, except for Juice, burst out laughing, Joss with them, her laugh obviously lighter and higher pitched than that of the men, who noticed immediately that there was a female present, and were suddenly silent as their eyes fell upon her, stunned expressions taking over their once jovial, wisecracking faces.

All except for Clay that was, who sniggered lowly at the rest of his crew then turned to Joss, his every tooth exposed. "You," Clay said to her, stepping back and taking her in. "Look at that, you got two legs after all!"

Joss laughed, but then she looked to Tig, waiting for some kind of sign from him that meant it was okay to speak to Clay. Whoa! Joss already knew Clay. This girl had lived in Clay's house for over a month, ate dinner with him and Gemma at their dining room table every night, laughed until she'd cried playing video games with him, and still Joss was being letter perfect in how she was to conduct herself as "PROPERTY OF TIG!" Damn! She did have this! Tig couldn't hide the proud grin on his face, and gave her a subtle nod.

"Yeah, it feels so great to have the casts off!" She said to Clay, then gave him a hug and kissed his cheek. "And it's even better to see you again! I miss hanging out with you, Clay!"

"Oh me too, babe, me too! I just gotta send that SAA of mine on more runs is all," Clay smiled back, releasing her from his bear hug, "and I love the new look; that's one lucky son of a bitch standing beside you!" He chuckled, shooting Tig an expectant glance. "So, I'd say she's got everyone's attention, you going to make the introductions?"

Shit, why hadn't he done that to start with? Well, because Tig had been standing there watching the fond interaction between his old lady and his president, and feeling too satisfied to even speak. But when he looked up, the rest of his brothers were waiting eagerly, mesmerized by his Joss, but not staring at her like she was twisting around a stripper poll. He smiled, he'd been looking forward to doing this for so long now. He slipped his arm around Joss's shoulders and without even thinking about it, planted a kiss on the top of her head when he felt her melt into him and become totally his even in this minimal amount of contact. "Joss, these are some of the guys that helped build your house," he smiled, pulling her even closer. "That ugly, bald motherfucker back there is Happy, he helped with the drywall," Tig paused as he and Happy took turns flipping each other off over what Tig had said, but both of them laughed. He looked back down at Joss again. "Don't trust him if you're alone with him!" He smirked at her.

"Don't believe what Trager tells you, either" Happy immediately replied, raising his beer bottle to Joss. "I'm a gentleman! Been alone with your old man there several times, and never once laid a hand on him!"

Joss laughed, but again said nothing until a stroke of Tig's hand on the back of her neck let her know it was okay. "You must be a gentleman, cuz he's hard to resist!" She'd started off looking at Happy when she spoke, but now her eyes and smile were on Tig…who again couldn't believe how incredible she was; waiting to speak until he gave her the "go" sign, and now even turning what she said into a compliment to him. Damn that girl! She was so good at moving so many feelings to action inside him!

There was a chorus of ball-busting "aww's" before Tig could move along, the smile just plastered to his face now. "That's Bobby, he rides that piece of shit outside with those big ape hangers."

"Hey, you know what they say about a guy with long arms!" Bobby countered, but in no time after had reached out and taken Joss's hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing the back of it. "Enchanté!" He smiled at her, and Tig felt Joss jolt forward a little like she really wished to speak, but again, she did nothing until he pushed her button.

"You're who did the tiles?" She smiled excitedly. "Thank you! They are so beautifully done! That had to be a lot of work, crawling around on your hands and knees!"

But Bobby waived off her thanks as he took a swig of his beer. "Na, it's thanks enough to know your lovely feet walk upon them." He said smiling, then winked at Joss, making her laugh and Tig shake his head.

"'Upon?'" Tig said to Bobby, how ridiculously gallant did Bobby have to get? "Really?" A debate was likely on the rise, but just then Half-Sack appeared from the back, carrying two cases of beer. Tig quickly pointed to him, leaning down to Joss. "And you know that red stairwell?" he asked her, and she nodded, "that's the guy to thank for that!"

At the mention of his name, Half-Sack immediately looked up, nearly dropping the cases of beer onto the bar, scowling until his eyes found Joss, and then he did drop the cases of beer. "Oh my God, she is smoking hot, Tig! Congratulations!" There was a collective groan all around him, but it was like Sack hadn't noticed, just staring bug eyed at Joss, who didn't move, not sure what she should do, and waiting on Tig to react before she did. "Man, you ever need anything painted over there again, you can call me! I don't care what it is!"

Again Tig shook his head, gently pushing Joss behind him and stepping in front of her. "Now, why'd you have to go and do that?" He asked, the rest of the crew nodding their heads. "You wanna get clipped again for running your mouth?"

"No…" Sack stuttered, rocked nervously from one foot to the other and looked like he wished the floor beneath him would cave in. "I'm sorry, man. I meant that in a good way, nothing disrespectful, I swear! I'm sorry, Tig!"

Tig nodded, but it wasn't over. He reached back and took Joss's hand again, pulling her forward until she stood beside him once more, but kept hold of her hand. "Apologize to the lady. I didn't bring her here tonight to have that kinda shit said to her."

"Oh, yeah!" Sack groaned, not able to look at Joss for a few seconds because he was too busy looking like he couldn't believe he'd started out this introduction by screwing up, and then just continued the streak. Finally, he steadied himself with a deep breath and looked at Joss, in the eye, which impressed Tig, but he stood there unmoved and waited for Sack's words. "Ma'am, I am so sorry! I really do have manners, but I just forget them sometimes. I hope you can forgive me."

Tig felt Joss move beside him, her head cocked in Half-Sack's direction; she wanted to speak to him. He knew her nature, she wanted to say she did forgive him; that he should forget about it, and in so doing, remove any awkwardness between Sack and her, but this time, Tig gave her no indication that she was allowed to speak, not even to nod. And Joss didn't. Another test passed!

"Dismissed!" Clay finally said as Sack continued to stand there, wavering on his feet, but as soon as he was gone, all the guys began laughing again, Tig pulling Joss closer than before and looked down at her, giving her a smile that no one else saw, just for her, that he hoped told her how amazing she was tonight. And she was, wildly beautiful and astoundingly attentive, no slip ups so far; no one had an old lady like her, no one! But, there were still more introductions to be made…fuck, how much longer was this party going to last…he lived for this recreational chaos, but all he wanted to do right now was get Joss home and give her a few other commands. But Tig looked up again, continuing.

"Mop Jockey over there," he smirked, "is Juice. He can hack anything with a password, but he's kind of like an infant…raised in the wild…by other infants."

"Aww, man, c'mon!" Juice groaned, but he also laughed then extended his hand out to Joss, who gave Tig a quick glance, he nodded, and then she extended her own out to Juice. "Welcome to SAMCRO, it's good to have you in the family!" He said warmly, and though Tig never really cared about the words people chose on a friendly basis, he was pleased to hear someone saying that to Joss.

She smiled. "Thank you, I'm really happy to be in the family!" Once more she'd been looking at whom she spoke to in the beginning, but by the end of her sentence, her eyes were on Tig. He smiled again.

"Over there," Tig began next, turning Joss briefly away from the guys at the bar and pointing to the few of his brothers who were over near the couch. "The guy with the salt and pepper hair, that's Chibs, the Scotsman, you'll know that as soon as he talks to you." He kinda smiled then pointed to the next member. "The older fella is Piney, he's a founding member, and next to him is…" but Opie, who had been standing over there a few minutes ago was now gone. Maybe he left? He'd always been a flake at parties. If he did, then it was probably just as well, it would have been an odd introduction, even though Joss knew nothing about what stood between he and Opie. "Anyway, Piney's son, Opie was there, he's who wired the house, and over there on the couch, I think you know Jax and Tara." Yeah, Joss knew Jax…and Tara. But it didn't really bother Tig that Joss liked Tara, the girl needed friends, but Jax…well…it was no fucking surprise to see the club split like this, Jax, Opie, Piney and Chibs on one side of the room and Clay, Bobby, Happy and him on the other side. Some things would never change. The moment Tig had gone to Clay and Gemma about taking Joss in, he knew it inevitably meant she'd be seeing Jax, and talking to him, she was living with his mother and staying in his old room, after all. And a friendship between Joss and Jax had developed, sort of. It was more like Jax had appointed himself her big brother or something, and while Tig didn't like it, there wasn't much he could do about it, particularly when it was yet to cause him any tangible problems. But it would, Tig just knew it would. He turned back towards the bar again, looking at his brothers now. "And this is Joss." He smiled, and pulled her against him again…beginning to realize he'd done it a lot tonight, in front of fucking everyone! Damn!

The guys nodded, the usual "nice to meet you's" and so on being spoken, except for Bobby who removed the cigar from his mouth and looked confused. "Joss?" He asked, as if he wasn't sure he'd heard her name right.

Joss was quiet, expecting that Tig would be who talked about her, but he nudged her the tiniest bit forward, wanting that liberty to be hers, she'd more than earned it. She smiled first at Tig, then at Bobby. "Well, it was Jocelyn," she said to Bobby, but then turned her head and looked back up at Tig again with those glittering green eyes. "But Tig changed it when we met." She smiled up at him, and Tig felt the most unwelcomed bliss shoot straight through his heart, leaving him standing there bleeding to death from happiness. Jesus Christ! It didn't get better than this! She'd just acknowledged that not only had he changed her name, but that she'd accepted the identity he'd assigned her. Joss couldn't have conveyed more clearly to his brothers that in every aspect she was 100% Tig's, completely devoted to him, totally in love with him, and everything that he wanted her to be! Fuck! Any control he came in the door with evaporated, if she turned to him right now and threw her arms around him, laid her head on his chest and snuggled in deep, he'd have had no strength to do anything but reciprocate in front of every fucking chapter of SOA that had turned out tonight. Damn that damn girl!

"Well okay," Bobby smiled then looked over towards the bar. "Someone get Joss a beer."

But this time Tig spoke before Joss could even let him know she wanted to. "No, man. She doesn't drink." He said, trying hard not to look at her right now, for fear that he'd never stop. "She doesn't smoke either."

Bobby looked confused, and a little disappointed. He looked at Joss. "You don't drink and you don't smoke?" He asked, and she nodded once, Tig allowed it. "Hmmm," Bobby mused, sticking his cigar back in the corner of his mouth. "Sounds like we have to find you a bad habit!"

Joss giggled a bit then looked at Tig, who did nothing to stop her from speaking. She wrapped both her arms around one of her man's. "I've got one." She assured them, and all of the guys laughed, even Tig, who barely noticed the comment Happy immediately made about there not being a "'quit the habit' gum for that one."

Shit! All of a sudden it occurred to Tig that there was nothing for Joss to drink at this party. "Hey, maybe we should send the prospect out for some Coke or something," he suggested to Clay, but before Clay could answer, a bottle of water from the mini fridge suddenly appeared on the bar in front of Joss.

"I think I can hook you up," said Opie, standing tall behind the bar, across from Joss, looking directly at her and speaking directly to her…without having been formally introduced. What the fuck was that? Sack hadn't even been that disrespectful, what he'd said had been thoughtless, but this was just out and out rudeness. You didn't just walk up and start speaking to another brother's property like that, it was like taking his bike for a spin without permission.

Tig felt all the muscles in his arms flinch as his hands became fists one more time tonight, but this time, it wasn't out of ordinary frustration. Just what was Opie doing? Where the fuck had he even come from? It was obvious he'd been listening in on the conversation. For a moment, Tig had forgotten Joss was even beside him, realizing it again when he saw her looking at him with questions and concerns in her eyes. She had no idea what his history was with Opie, but she could tell something was up. No, now was not the time or the place, Tig forced himself to take a deep breath and walk away from this one…for now. He reached forward and shoved the bottle of water back at Opie. "She's good." He said flatly, stepping in front of Joss one more time, but this time, it wasn't just for show. "Thanks."

There was dead silence at the bar, Clay had leaned forward some off of the stool, at the ready to jump into the middle of whatever may start and pull them apart, but Tig and Opie just continued to stare at each other. Tig felt Joss's hand slide into his, breaking him out of this enough to realize that she needed him beside her more than she needed him to kick one of his immediate brother's asses over a bottle of water. By that time, Opie was backing down, maybe realizing his abruptness and the mistake he'd made.

"I'm sorry, man." He said to Tig, shaking his head and relaxing his posture, Tig doing the same, but not as quickly, still eyeing him suspiciously. "It's just such a surprise, all this," he continued, indicating Tig and Joss being together. "I just wanted her to feel welcome, that's all."


	18. Mind Games

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 18

Tig sat in his usual chair to the left of Clay at the redwood meeting table in the Chapel, it was only the two of them, which made it even more difficult to try to discreetly crane his neck over his shoulder and then strain his eyes to look for Joss between the slats of the blinds on the windows. He also looked for Opie, but from where he was sitting, in conference with Clay, Tig couldn't see a damn thing. But, he must have looked obvious in his attempts to. Clay's hand suddenly gripped his shoulder.

"Everything's fine," Clay promised. "You know Happy and Bobby wouldn't have let Opie or anyone else take her out of here." His voice was a confident comfort, halting all the scenarios that had been playing out in Tig's head. Tig nodded, but wouldn't relax until he had a visual on Joss, but he turned his attention back to Clay, who repeated his theory. "Like I said, I think Ope's just bluffing, he won't really move on her, he just wants you to think he will. Paranoia is the ultimate payback."

"Yeah," Tig sighed, but once more looked over his shoulder out of the Chapel window, realizing there was a small crowd around the bar where he'd left Joss in the charge of Happy and Bobby. It looked like money was being laid down on the bar, followed by the silence of the onlookers whose currency sat on the bar, then he faintly heard Bobby asking Joss to apparently recite something, and then he heard her do it, able to see now that Joss was sitting on the bar itself, with Bobby seated on a stool to her left and Happy seated on a stool to her right. Whatever Joss had said, Bobby quickly confirmed it, and the small crowd erupted in a mix of cheers and groans, the money being swept up, by the winners, who only laid it down on the bar again in preparation of whatever the next round of this was. Curiosity was killing Tig, but he was mostly so relieved to know Joss was safe. But there was still no sign of Opie. "But I'm telling you, Clay, I even think Opie's got some kind of eye for an eye shit in mind, he's gone, and it won't be club business. It'll be personal."

Clay nodded. "Your old lady, your prerogative, I understand." He said; the noises around the bar attracting Clay's attention now too, and he stood to see what it was his flock was into. There wasn't much left to be said about Opie's faux pas anymore anyway. Tig could tell Clay had found Joss in the sea of betting men, he saw him smile, a glint in Clay's eye that conveyed just how much Joss meant not only to the man that owned her, but also to Clay himself, and therefore, the club. "But she'll be fine. We won't let anything happen to her."

Tig nodded, knowing he had the support of the club like this was what he needed, but he was hoping Joss would be okay; he knew better than anyone that "accidents" happened. He'd never considered that now he had something to lose, and that maybe Opie had been waiting for these exact circumstances to one day occur. Joss, what had Tig gotten her into?

"Hey!" Clay walked over to the door now, opening it, his smile was so out of place with what Tig was feeling, but Clay waved him out of the Chapel. "You've got a great girl, get over there and enjoy her…don't give into that paranoia, got it?" Tig got the impression that Clay hadn't quite finished what he was saying, but that's when Clay's cellphone rang. He pulled it from the pocket of his. "Gemma," he said and rolled his eyes a little. "She's probably on her way finally; this is where you find out how well you've been taking care of the girl you took out of her house!" He laughed then answered the phone.

Clay was right, in both instances. Gemma was coming, and there was certain amount of protection for Joss in that alone. Tig got to his feet, trying to think only of the good things this evening. It had been a great night, Joss was everything he could have ever wanted in an old lady and even more. He couldn't have scripted a night more perfect than this one, except for the Opie part anyway, and he definitely couldn't have fantasized a more perfect girl, perfect in every way. Even in his absence she'd somehow found a way to be fascinating his brothers. Joss, his beautiful, gifted, sweet, sacred darkness; he wouldn't lose her.

It was getting late; Opie was likely gone home to his kids, and even if he was still here somewhere, Tig had his knife…he always had a knife. Besides, the logical part of him knew that Opie wasn't likely to try anything here, tonight. He took a deep breath, shook off the suspicion and fear, and walked out of the Chapel and over to see what Joss was up to.

"Tig!" Juice couldn't have been more excited, holding nearly two hundred dollars in his hands, and standing behind Joss where she sat on the bar. "You gotta see this, man!"

Well, Joss's clothes were still on, so it couldn't have been anything like that…and if it was, Tig wasn't sure just who he'd kill first. But the more he watched, the more things were slowly beginning to fit together now. Joss was currently sitting there speed reading the manual for the ice maker from cover to cover, then she handed it over to Bobby when she finished, looking at the crowd with a slight smirk. Ah, so that's what this was. Tig couldn't help smile, and be proud of her again…still haunted by the thing with Opie, but more aware of it than he was focusing on it. He was eager to see how the rest of this ice maker manual thing would play out.

Bobby closed the manual and tucked it under his arm on the bar where no one, particularly Joss, could see it. "Okay gentlemen, we have your choice of thirty-seven pages, counting the very back cover. Someone call it."

"Seventeen!" Said Chibs, standing with his arms crossed, the guy next to him commenting on how Joss had to be wrong one of these times.

All eyes fell on Joss, who smiled, waiting until Bobby had the manual open to the appropriate page, closing her eyes now and saying, "Assistance or Service, Before calling for assistance or service, please check 'Troubleshooting.' It may save you the cost of a service call. If you still need help, follow the instructions below."

Bobby sat reading the very first paragraph on the page with close intensity. "Nailed it!" He reported to the betting crowd. "Word for word!"

Once more there was celebrating and groaning amongst the crowd, Juice scooping up his share of the pot again. "You see?" He said with great excitement to Tig. "Your old lady's like psychic or something!"

At that, Joss looked up at Tig, saying nothing, but her grin spoke volumes. He looked back at her the same way. "Joss," he said to her with a proud, sneaky, gleam in his eyes. "Are you 'psychic?'" he questioned her like a parent grilling a child with a ball and bat about a broken window. "Or 'something?'"

Joss still smiled, but her eyebrows furrowed a bit. "Do we have to tell them?" She asked him, but there was no real opposition in her voice. "People always treat me differently after they find out."

"No they won't," Tig replied, but his eyes made serious and level contact with everyone around the bar when he said it, refusing to continue with any of this unless everyone nodded their agreement that indeed they would not start treating his old lady like she was some kind of freak. "Can I see this?" He asked Bobby, his hand already on the manual to the ice maker.

"All yours," said Bobby, as eager to see where this was going as everyone else was. "So what's the scam?"

Tig smirked, but ignored the question. He opened the manual, flipping through for just the right page to ask Joss about. "Aha!" he smiled challengingly at her. "Joss, page thirty, what's the heading say?"

"It's in French," she answered, looking over at him as if she was hesitant to try this one.

"What's it say?" He demanded sternly; how she felt about her confidence in this was meaningless, because he knew she had it, even if she didn't. There was silence around the bar again, but even heavier than the silence prior to his arrival at this game.

Joss took a deep breath, her insecurity showing in her summer-grass green eyes. "Nettoyage du système de la machine á glaçons." Her accent was perfect, which did nothing to surprise Tig, because Joss had memorized what accent and inflection marks all indicated within a word when she was likely still in pre-school.

Already there was gasping around the bar, but Tig calmly turned the manual away from Joss and towards Happy. "That look about right to you?" he asked.

"Holy shit!" Happy exclaimed after a few seconds, and his confirmation made everyone else gasp once more, the crowd clearly more impressed than before, but Tig shook his head at them all.

"Gimme a minute," this got better, he knew it did. He looked down at the page again and then back at Joss, smiling at her again in that way that told her how proud of her he was, and how much fun he was having showing her off like this. "Joss, number three in the list on page thirty, what's it say?"

She was still a bit apprehensive with the French, but she was also becoming more comfortable, her eyes locked onto his as if she was drawing her strength from him. Damn! Tig quietly sighed, that had felt better than anything else had tonight! This was so much better than obsessing about the newest Opie situation all night, but Tig still couldn't stop himself from scanning the clubhouse for him every now and then. After a second, maybe two though, Joss nodded, stealing his attention back. "'Dévisser le capuchon de vidange du bas du bac à eau situé à l'intérieur du bac d'entreposage, voir l'illustration. Laisser l'eau se vidanger complètement.'"

The crowd was still awed, but they were now waiting for some finale, Tig had after all implied there was one. He turned the manual away from Joss but showed it to Bobby this time for verification, but Bobby put up one hand in front of the book.

"Shit man," he said laughing. "I can't even remember what she said!"

The crowd began to laugh, but Tig double checked the page, nodding his head. "Yeah, that looks like it," he said, then smiled back at Joss, about to make things tougher. "Now," he stared levelly at her, knowing she could get this, but also knowing she'd feel better about attempting it if he was somehow with her on it. "Look at me," he told her softly, "what's it mean?"

The crowd of men actually drew a step backwards as if she was about to perform some kind of firing eating-flaming sword swallowing stunt, and Tig couldn't help but laugh at them, hoping he wasn't throwing Joss off, just maintaining eye contact with her, because he knew it helped her to focus. She smiled, having found her place once again. "'Unscrew the drain cap from the bottom of water tank located inside the storage tank, see illustration. Allow the water to drain completely."'

It was as if she'd made it to the other end of a tight rope, the crowd applauding and whistling now, but Tig quickly halted and hushed them, looking unimpressed. "What page can I find the exact translation on so I know you didn't just make that up?"

Joss smiled. "Page twelve."

Tig flipped to it, handing the manual to Happy, who read where Tig indicated with his finger, nodding his shaved head, but saying nothing other than, "Hey, I got this trip to Vegas planned, can I borrow your old lady? I think she may come in handy out there!"

Everyone laughed, including Joss and including Tig, who took the manual back from Happy, but smiling at Joss the whole time. Did she know how incredible she was? Not only because of what she could do with letters, numbers and words, but in the eyes of his brothers alone. They all wanted her, Tig could feel it, but he was the only one who had her, and the only one she belonged to. "Page thirty," he said to her, putting his arm around her waist and pulling her close to him, but carefully shielding the manual from her eyes. "Number eight on the list, the very last line, spell out all the words for me."

Joss sighed as if she was getting bored, but her smile betrayed her attempted portrayal. "E, A, U, comma, space, R, E—"

"No no no, baby," Tig shook his head and laid his finger against her lips. "Backwards!" He smiled at her, this little show ceasing to be for his brothers, who all stood waiting on pins and needles; it was something only between him and Joss now, furthering the bond already between them, his gorgeous, sweet, shadowy Joss. Opie had no idea how dead he was already.

Joss smiled, but cocked her head at him as if to ask 'what do you want from me?' Tig laughed, so did she, but in no time began to give him what he asked for. "Period, E, A, G, Y,O,T,T,E,N, space, E,D, space, E,L,C,Y,C, space, E,L, space—" but she never got to finish; Tig kissed her, hard on the mouth, like there should have been a preacher or justice of the peace standing in front of them, not even realizing he'd did it until the small crowd around them chimed in with their guttural cheers.

Fuck! He didn't like it when it was just Joss who knew he did that…and now it was everyone. Stupid fucking party! He pulled away from Joss, wanting to forget it ever happened, and trying hard to distract the onlookers from what he'd done. He laid the manual down on the bar. "You can check it if you all want to," he invited. "But if I were you, I'd believe her. She's got an IQ of 164; her memory is photographic down to the last detail. She reads something, sees something, hears you say something, she'll remember everything, down to what you had on when you said it." Tig paused for a moment, looking towards Joss with half a smile and half a sneer on his face, "It's a annoying as shit!" The guys were all laughing, no one paying attention to the little wink he proffered in Joss's direction, except for Joss, who smiled sweetly and devotedly back. Tig stroked his fingers through her lusciously soft raven hair and sighed, wishing he was still able to stop himself from reacting the way he had been all night long. What would happen to him if this kind of thing ever got be comfortable? It was too unsettling a thought, and he quickly sought out a distraction, looking to his brothers once again. "If you're going to play little memory games with her, at least make her sweat it a little!"

"Who the fuck are all of these people?" Gemma suddenly appeared out of the crowd around the clubhouse doorway, her frustration evident, but Clay soon at her side.

"I told you to get here early, baby." He said, giving his wife a hug and a kiss. "It's a special occasion, you know."

"Well I had to wait until Nita was there with Abel, and—" Gemma looked up, her eyes finding Joss and what she was saying seemed to be not so important anymore. She smiled, turning quickly to her left and seeing that Tara was approaching as well, and she smiled even more. "Alright, you boys have had your fun, it's our turn now!" She held out her left hand to Tara and her right hand to Joss, who looked eagerly at Tig.

"Is it okay?" she asked, looking like she'd be more than disappointed if he said "no."

Tig could only smile. "Are you kidding? Gemma out ranks me!"

"Thank you!" Joss beamed, moving to get down off of the bar, but before she could jump down, Tig grabbed her by the hips and gently set her on the floor. She smiled at Gemma, but gazed at him before she walked away from him, leaning close, but not touching him. "I love you."

It was the softest of whispers; Tig felt it flutter against his neck, making him close his eyes and try to capture the feeling forever. What? God fucking damn it! He hadn't asked to hear her say that…but she had, and instead of disciplining her for it, he'd gotten lost in it, and now it was too fucking late to mentally slap her for talking out of turn like that. Right? Great, what did he do now? What did he even say? And furthermore, why wasn't he more pissed about this whole occurrence? "I know." He whispered back, unable to control what the longing in his voice described of his emotional desire, but his hand went to Joss's shoulder and pushed her forward towards Gemma, trying to get Joss away from him before he did or said something stupid in front of everyone…again.

Joss smiled sweetly up at him again, just before Gemma grabbed her hand and pulled her, and Tara over towards the couch; the three of them already laughing about something…probably about how pathetic he was becoming. Tig sighed, but before all of this stuff and the Opie stuff could shake hands inside his head and really start to tag team him to death, Clay stepped up beside him, also sighing.

"You see that?" Clay said, indicating the trio of women now taking over the couch. "That's my wife and our two girls," he smiled, somewhat proudly and somewhat beaten into submission at the same time. "I always suspected Gemma wanted a daughter, but she was too afraid of passing on the heart condition to another kid." Clay lit up a cigar then laughed a little as he looked at Tig. "So I guess she just hijacked two of them."

Tig grimaced but nodded, reaching for his own cigarettes. "It's just good to know there's someone for Joss," he said, pulling out a smoke and popping it into his mouth. "Besides me, that is."

"Yeah, it can't be all on you." Agreed Clay then pointed over to the women again. "And Gemma really does like Joss. It isn't that she dislikes Tara, but she didn't get to choose Tara, Jax did, and so Gemma had to make the best outta that as she could. But Joss," Clay smiled, cigar between his teeth. "That's the princess!" He announced, sort of chuckling as he patted Tig's shoulder. "Congratulations!"


	19. Zone Defense

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 19

Just how this newest rapport Joss had with Jax had all started wasn't something Joss couldn't really pinpoint. It was just something that sparked one day, out of nowhere, in response to something his mother had said, or more accurately, how she'd said it, and it had grown from there. She'd met Jax for the first time when Tara brought him along one afternoon to visit her in her hospital room, and he'd been full of questions, but no less affable. The one thing she could immediately tell about him was that he was different from most of the bikers she'd been around. It was like this life was only something Jax did over the summer, and in the fall, he returned to teaching philosophy at UC Berkeley or something. He'd been one of her most frequent visitors both in the hospital and Clay and Gemma's house, and it was so easy to listen to him talk and hear his ideas on this or on that, and she blamed her teenage youth for allowing her too many to times just sit there and follow along, eager to hear the next theory Jax spouted. But before long, there always came a moment when she'd realize what Jax was saying couldn't have been anymore opposite from the way Tig lived his life within the confines of the MC. Maybe Jax had figured that he could "recruit" her into his way of thinking, her being young and naïve and all…or so he might have thought, and once she did embrace his words, there was always that chance that she'd turn disciple for him, and she could sway Tig his way too…Tig was muscle and mayhem, any MC wheel was hard pressed to turn without him behind it. She'd seen the clashes between old blood and new blood in several other clubs, it was never pretty, and if her man was old blood, then so was she, no questions. Gradually, Joss began taking quiet control of her relationship with Jax, smothering it until it had shrunken away from her fascinations with his "sermons," he wasn't some biker version of Jesus after all. And now all that remained was this playful, bickering type of fluff. She liked Jax, but it was much safer this way, for both of them. She loved Tig, and she'd always side with Tig.

But when Joss found herself at home with Clay and Gemma, trying to adjust to her new surroundings, she'd been happy to see Jax appear there in the doorway of the room she was assigned one day, he was familiar, and nothing else there had been. "Alright," he'd said looking in on her with a pissed off expression and shaking his head, but Joss could tell it was all just an act, something to make her laugh. "This is my room, so don't touch any of my stuff!"

Before Joss could really laugh, Gemma was yelling from the kitchen. "Jaxon! You leave Joss alone, she needs to rest!"

Something in the tone of Gemma's voice made them both realize the fun they were about to have with this whole situation, for a long time to come. That day had actually turned into them playing video games in Jax's room and eating grilled cheese that Gemma had made them for lunch…after she refused to make them Spaghetti O's. And so the tradition had continued on, this party being no exception.

"What the hell happened to you?" Jax had come over to the court his mother was currently holding on the couch, initially because Tara was part of it, but once he saw Joss, he started shaking his head.

"Jaxon!" Gemma sighed in a way that only a mother could, Tara seconding her sentiment, but Joss only smiled up at him. She'd gotten so used to how Jax treated her like a little kid, always teasing her, always antagonizing her, always talking to her like she needed everything about the big, bad world explained to her. At times, it did get annoying, but Joss tolerated it; Jax meant well, and she got a strong sense that he was looking out for her as much as he could too, but from what? That was the question.

"I changed some things." Joss sighed as she looked up at Jax. "What the hell happened to you?" She laughed.

"Me? I'm the normal one now!" Jax shook his head again, squatting down in front of her with a beer bottle in his hands, he attempted to sound comically serious and concerned, but there was more behind it than he could hide. "What the hell did Tig do to you, Joss? I'm going to start calling you LDG!"

Again she laughed, ignoring Jax's slight failure to sell his smirk that time. "Um, Tig's not real skilled when it comes to hair and make-up, this wasn't his doing." She clarified, but then laughed again, imagining the hair and make-up Tig would be capable of…or even a world where Tig could do hair and make-up! "And what's 'LDG?'"

Jax looked up at her with a furrowed brow and raised eyebrows, like he was about to gently break bad news. "Living Dead Girl." He said, and then had to quickly duck the couch pillow that Joss swung at him.

"Hey!" She laughed, this having gotten to be a normal kind of thing between them, but lately Joss could feel more and more that Jax was trying to pull her back from something, like trying to keep her on his side of some unseen fence. "Jerk! This is my party, you know! I could have you thrown out of here!" Joss threatened, but it was difficult to really sound tough when she was giggling the way she was. What had began to walk the line between funny and serious was now where it should have been, they were good. "We can't all pull off that scraggily blond look…maybe when it gets a little longer, you can braid it up like Willie Nelson!"

"And maybe you can transform into a bat and fly away!" Jax countered, smirking, but Gemma was soon in the middle of their silliness.

"How old are the two of you?" She looked first at Jax then at Joss, her expression making them both go quiet, but they still smiled and smirked at each other in silence. It was hard not to laugh, and it was evil to keep doing this perhaps, but Gemma just reacted so seriously to it all that neither Jax nor Joss could help themselves. "Jax, say you're sorry."

"What? Me?" He replied innocently, but gave Joss another smirk. "Mom, she started it, I swear! There has been a sharp decline in her manners lately." Joss was about to burst out laughing, Jax seeing it and adding, "I think it's that dirty biker she's banging…"

Joss smiled, made herself laugh, Jax had sold the line, she wouldn't give him any indication that she read anything between it.

"Jax!" Tara now nearly laughed so loudly that she had to cover her own mouth then she cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure, her hand shoving at Jax as she laughed, but Jax only pulled her close and kissed her. Tara smiled, but then looked to Gemma and Joss, shaking her head. "Why don't we all take a trip to the lady's room?" She suggested, knowing that Jax would likely just hang around and keep razzing Joss, because that is what Jax and Joss did best together.

"All of us?" Jax again looked at Joss, laughing as his finger revolved around the four of them. "Score!"

Gemma pursed her lips and was shaking her head, but Chibs stepped up into the conversation, preventing another scolding that Jax had been fishing for. "Jax, smoke out competition, you in, mate?"

"Yes, he is!" Said Tara, laughing a little as she looked up at Chibs then nodding for Jax to go and just let the girls get back to being the girls.

Jax nodded, stood up again, but couldn't resist one last parting shot. He looked at Chibs. "Yeah, I'm in, but have you met Elvira yet?" He pointed to Joss with his elbow, her eyes immediately rolling, and wondering what was expected of her next, feeling unsure about talking to anyone else that she didn't already know, or hadn't been formally introduced to without Tig standing beside her saying it was okay to speak to them. The Scotsman however must have not only known, but also respected the code of MC conduct when it came to patched old ladies, and unlike the one of Tig's brothers she'd encountered tonight, all Chibs did was give her an acknowledging shake of his head, but he said nothing that might have made Joss need to say something she wasn't permitted to say.

"Go, Jax!" Gemma ordered, but her expression softened. "I'll be out to watch in a minute."

"Me too." Said Tara, leaving Joss feeling a little left out, because when she'd looked over to where Tig was, knowing she had to ask him if she could go with Gemma and Tara to the contest in the parking lot, he was deep into some apparently hilarious conversation with Clay, Happy and Bobby, and she knew that interrupting him was out of the question. Jax and Chibs had departed, walking quickly outside to get their bikes. Joss wasn't in any rush to see one more bike burn its back tire against asphalt until so much black smoke was produced that no one could even breathe, let alone see, but she knew it was only a matter of time now before her two best friends, the best friends she'd ever had, would follow Jax and Chibs, leaving her alone. This was the downside of being property…but it hadn't been unexpected.

"Okay, I was actually serious about the lady's room!" Tara said, turning to Gemma and then Joss. "You coming with me, it's a long walk."

"It is?" Joss asked, confused now, for she'd gotten conflicting information from Tig concerning where the necessary was. "Isn't there a bathroom back in that hallway?"

Both Gemma and Tara just sucked in their breath like they were frightened and then groaned, shaking their heads. "No!" Said Gemma emphatically, "you don't want to go in there!"

"Really!" agreed Tara. "It's…pretty harsh." She said, laughing because of how truly awful what she'd seen must have been. "We usually walk over to the garage and use the public one over there. That one actually gets cleaned."

"Yeah," said Gemma, and her eyes fell on Tig, but not directly, they actually kind of hovered between Tig and Happy. "And no one's been jacking off in that one." She said, frowning with her disgust. "How it got on the ceiling I'll never know, and probably don't want to!"

Tara was nodding; the repulsion of it showing on her face too, but Joss now faced another problem. Tig was still talking to his brothers, and she couldn't just leave without asking him, not even if it was only for the lady's room, with Gemma. But then Gemma smiled and removed the obstacle Joss had in front of her. "Let me get the key to the 'Executive Wash Room' from Clay." She smiled, and so did Joss, Gemma could interrupt any conversation! And she did, walking over to Clay, placing her hand on his shoulder first, and indicating she wanted the key. The men all stopped talking; Clay reaching for the keys on his belt, and then Tig looked up, over at Joss, and beckoned to her with his finger. Her hopes fell a bit, he could be about to tell her she couldn't go, it was his right.

"Excuse me," she said to Tara, and got to her feet, hoping she didn't look disappointed already, it wasn't Tig's fault that her friends had decided to change the plans and were leaving the clubhouse after all.

"Hey," he said as she approached, extending one arm to her and laying it across the back of her shoulders as she stood next to him. "You okay?" He asked, the question seemingly generic, but once more Joss saw him searching the clubhouse for someone or something, he'd done it several times tonight.

"Yeah, I'm great." She smiled, wanting to ask what he was constantly scouting out, but also knowing he likely wouldn't tell her. "Is something wrong?"

All of a sudden he stopped the visual patrol then shook his head in a way that told Joss they were not going to be talking about it. "It's dark, be careful, and stay with Gemma." He told her, making sure her eyes were on his like it was important she listened to and obeyed every little thing he said. "I'll be over in five minutes to walk you back over here, but don't wait for me if Gemma and Tara are ready to leave before I get there, I can find you somewhere between there and here. I don't want you alone, okay?"

Chapter 19; Part 2

How quiet it was on the other side of the lot, around the garage, was a startling contrast to the noise in the clubhouse. So was the darkness, no fires burned in empty five gallon drums over here, the only light was the one Tig could see when the lady's room door had opened, Jax's doctor bitch coming out and Gemma going in. He'd been pretty sure he'd make it over here before the girls started back for the clubhouse, it was a single bathroom, and he figured they'd each have to take their turns…at least, he guessed, not really being an aficionado of what women did in the bathroom, or how they did it…he only knew what he did with women in bathrooms, and the girls were likely not doing that…ooooh, but what if they were? No! Not when it involved both Joss and Gemma, they were both on the consecrated list of divinity in his mind, so really, that only left Jax's doctor bitch to think about that way…and then she was all by herself…and she was…Jax's doctor bitch…not that she wasn't pretty, but if she was with Tig, she wouldn't have lived through an entire night before he had to snap her damn neck for saying some kind of shit. He'd been worried when he learned of the friendship that Joss and she had developed, but to Joss's amazing streak of credit, none of Tara's attitude was rubbing off on her. Wait a God damn minute! How'd Joss get on the consecrated list of divinity? Fuck! Damn that girl! She kept turning up in more and more places! Well, whatever…as long as Opie wasn't about to turn up in any places, out of the dark, armed to the teeth and hunting Tig's old lady.

He could hear Joss and Jax's doctor bitch talking as he approached, purposefully scuffing his boot and kicking a pebble across the lot to warn them of his advance, not wanting to startle them too badly. He saw Joss look up, and from this distance could tell she smiled too, it made him want to run to her, but he didn't…he'd looked silly enough for her tonight already.

"I'm really glad that you came tonight!" Joss was saying to Jax's doctor bitch, going back to their conversation, as Tig was still too far out to expect her attention to immediately become his, but in the still air, he could hear every word each of them said. "Gemma said that your work makes you miss a lot of the parties."

Tara kind of sighed, "It's not just my work that makes me miss the parties," she confessed, leaning up against the cinder block wall with Joss. "I never really know how I'm viewed around here, by the guys, I mean. I always feel so out of place." She smiled, but even Tig could see she looked kind of depressed. "I only came tonight because I knew it was for you." Tara paused a moment, maybe remembering who was approaching, rapidly. "And Tig."

Bitch! But then his perfect little Joss cocked her head, her peridot eyes full of sympathy for her friend. "Your place is with Jax," she smiled, putting her hand on Tara's arm. "And it only matters what he thinks."

Oh God, come on…she was killing him tonight! And to think that he'd been worried about the influence of Jax's doctor bitch rubbing off on Joss! Nope, it was the other way around! Joss was unbelievable! She was born to wear a property patch, HIS property patch, and she was so damn good at it that she was even counseling an un-patched old lady on how to handle herself around the club. Jesus, that girl…HIS girl! Joss had sent the death blow of elation through his heart this time, only instead of stopping him dead, it had Tig speeding up his steps, rushing to get to her, feeling this odd bolt of electricity shoot through him and kick his dick into the familiar spasms of semi-erectness. Tig was used to that feeling, but this time it had caught him off-guard, started in a place somewhere around inside his chest, like somebody shook up a beer bottle inside of him. What was that? He hadn't thought he could feel that there…but what was it that he was feeling? His body was on the verge of demanding that he nail Joss to that wall with what was coming to life against his thigh, but he didn't understand why…Joss wasn't standing over there naked, and she wasn't fingering herself, or fingering Tara, or anything else that should have turned on all his most reliable senses. Fuck, he wasn't drunk, he'd realized when he was on his fourth beer that he didn't live at the clubhouse any longer, and that he had to drive home tonight with Joss on the back of his bike, and he hadn't taken anything else either for the same reason…but it felt oddly like he was drunk, and like he had taken a whole lot of shit!

Damn, he should have probably been stone cold scared to death and running for the high ground, but shit, this just felt too damn good! If he could find something that made him feel like this every time he drank it, injected it or snorted it, then that's all he'd do in life! Joss! He just wanted to get over there to her and…what? What was he going to do? His body was pushing for one thing, but his mind was tangled in some kind of hazy, warm, mushy shit, and the two just couldn't coordinate an attack. The only thing he did know was that Opie was more dead in more ways than Aaron Butcher if he touched Joss; Butcher was just the warm up, they'd be finding parts of Opie for many miles and many years! All of a sudden Tig found himself standing in front of Joss, trying to catch his breath, too many things raging inside him to even name, and there was no more time to prepare a plan of action…he'd run the last few feet over to Joss, standing there looking at her, her looking at him, and everything else just fell the fuck away.

Chapter 19; Part 3

Joss was smiling excessively, Tig could tell because more than a few times when he'd kissed up her neck to her lips, it was actually her teeth his mouth was against, but she was always fast to drop her jaw enough for him to kiss her more deeply, her lips quickly over his, until it drove him so crazy he had to have total control again, and pulled away, gasped for air, and kissed her again, his hand on the back of her head, pressing her closer and holding her where he wanted her, his other arm locked around her waist and his body pinning hers against the bay doors of the garage.

He couldn't remember what he'd said to her when he'd realized he was standing in front of her by the lady's room door, it was something completely awkward like, "Wanna see where I work?" and then he'd just grabbed her hand and pulled her away from Jax's doctor bitch with no explanation at all. He wasn't even sure where he was taking her, or what he'd do when he got her there, but the first dark corner he came to seemed more than suited to whatever was about to happen, and now here he was, kissing her again and again, on her lips, her neck, her face, wherever he could reach on her chest, moving her silky, onyx hair to the side and trying to leave no part of her untouched by his mouth; it had been going on for some time now, this crazed, hot desire to have this moment with her, his lips and tongue on her skin, and hers on his, caressing, sucking, tasting, and...he wasn't even fucking her. What the hell?

But Tig couldn't stop himself, going at it like a starving man at a buffet, the one arm around her waist holding her tighter and tighter against him, he'd never noticed her waist felt so small or that her breasts were so full and firm against his thundering heart. No clothes had come off, but he could feel her like he'd never felt her before, not even when he was as deeply inside of her as he could force himself. Joss was good though, respected his wishes, one of her hands at his waist, but closer to his thigh than his back, and the other clutching his forearm tightly as she kissed him and sucked at his tongue, but her hand reached no further around him than the crook of his elbow. Still, she managed to be as close to him as he wanted and needed her to be, by letting him control it all. The tip of a needle probably wouldn't have fit between their bodies he held her so tightly, burying all his desires inside her with each flex of the biceps and forearm around her that pulled her closer and closer, but it stayed there, Tig unexplainably content to not go further than the astonishing intimacy they were currently sharing.

Intimacy? He kissed her again, feeling the beating of Joss's heart in her kiss it seemed, every breath she breathed one of his own; is that what this was? Intimacy? He moved against her, imagining that they were slowly morphing into the same, one thing, rolling themselves into a giant ball of whatever it was that defined them being together, no longer Tig and Joss, but something with one mind and one heart. Intimacy? How was it possible to feel what he felt? And even more importantly, how did he keep it? Opie, he'd fucking kill Opie! He kissed Joss again, a beautiful slow burn that twisted and twisted inside him but never extinguished. He'd fucking kill anyone that tried to take Joss away. His mouth was on her neck again; her smooth skin smelling faintly of vanilla and cinnamon as he softly sucked the taste of honey from it. He'd fucking rip the head off of whoever tried to hurt her. He felt her lips brush over his jaw line with light, slow kisses. He'd fucking turn inside out and shake the guts out of anyone who tried to separate him from what was his.

The sound of heavy breathing distracted him, but Tig soon realized he was looking at Joss now, and she was looking at him, both of them gasping, and seemed a little lost. What happened? Why was it over? Maybe they'd just run out of oxygen? Stupid fucking oxygen! But something else wasn't right, something felt very out of place and unnerving…Joss's arm, it had slipped between his elbow and waist and her hand was on the middle of his back. "Joss!" He couldn't help but pull back violently and suddenly, despite what had been coursing through him, let loose from its leash, not so very long ago.

"I'm sorry!" She ripped her hand from his back, whipping her arm from around him, realizing with a great anguish in her desire clouded eyes what she'd done. "I didn't mean it, you must have moved and…" she looked at him imploringly, like she couldn't believe she'd been what had ruined the incredible thing that had started between them. "I'm sorry, Tig. I didn't realize, and I didn't mean—"

"No," Tig sighed, he'd made way too much of feeling that her arm was around him, it hadn't killed him for shits-sake, it was just still…weird, and he'd panicked. "It's okay, you're right, I probably moved, you didn't do anything wrong." He closed the distance between them once again, brushing her hair out of her face. "It's okay," he whispered, then kissed her forehead. "I just can't take it when you go passed the…elbow zone."

Joss now smiled, like she was trying not to laugh, looking up at him in a way that made Tig laugh before she did. "Is that like the 'Twilight Zone?'" She asked, laughing.

He laughed again, shaking his head. "I don't know," he said, not even really sure what they were talking about, he just knew that there was no one else in the world that would put up with his crazy shit the way Joss did. He usually managed to unnerve the hangarounds that would throw themselves at him in the hopes of becoming his old lady, knowing his name would gain them instant status and respect, but Tig usually went out of his way to scare the life out of them with something he said, or did, or demanded…and he'd never kissed them…at least, not more than twice, he'd always had a hard and fast "two kiss maximum" and then he was taking what he wanted, one way or another…but just now, with Joss, he'd maxed out that maximum and then some! "Fuck!" He suddenly groaned, stepping back from her and grimacing as he threw a punch downwards in frustration of realizing he was doing things he hadn't done since he was a high school quarterback with a prom date. "Joss, did I just make out with you?"

She started to slowly nod, not really looking afraid or nervous, but he could tell she didn't really want to have to deliver this verdict. "Yeah, I think that's what that might have been."

"Shit!" he groaned again, and stood feeling so flustered he couldn't look at her, but not because he blamed her. He owned her, it was on him to stop or start whatever they did. But Joss, she was so perfect, and in no time, she had this latest insecurity of his sewn up and tucked away again.

She'd sighed, kicked some little rocks around on the ground, not looking at him either. "You were arrested in Oregon for indecent exposure in a livestock trailer, and you were the only human in there…" she said then looked up at him, a little. "How do you think I feel?"

It was the last thing he'd expected her to say, and after he was over the shock of her saying it, all Tig could do was laugh. But it wasn't so much because it was funny, although, it was fucking hilarious, but more that Joss had figured out the fucked up route to making him feel better…remind him of how awful he was! Who else would know to do that? Who else would understand that? Damn that girl…there was nothing better than her in his life, except maybe for the club, but honestly, Joss was pulling ahead at times.

"So, look," she started to say, and Tig could tell this had nothing to do with livestock trailers or making out. "That guy, with the water…I know you won't tell me everything, and I respect that, but, if I'm up against something, I just want to know what it is." She looked up at him now, her eyes steady with his. "I think that's fair, don't you?"

Tig nodded, but he didn't really want to discuss this with her. "I can't tell you anything, Joss, its club business." He said then sighed again, trying to find a way to explain a situation he didn't want to relive, or scare Joss with. He knew that Clay was probably right, Opie didn't really have the balls to…and even if he did, Tig would kill him…he'd fucking kill him…but Joss didn't have to know all of that. "I just want you to be careful, okay? Something doesn't seem right, you tell me, got it?"

"Okay," she nodded, looking like she'd hoped for more insight, even though she'd known not to expect it. But she smiled a little bit now, reaching out and wrapping both her hands around his forearms, casting a glance down at both his elbows and making them both laugh a little. "Can I ask you something else?"

Tig smirked, but let her pull him closer, her hands not moving out of the specified "zone" one little bit this time. "Yeah, but you know I don't have to answer it." He reminded her, his smile widening again and he chuckled when he saw Joss roll her eyes at him. The air was still again, a familiar energy on the rise, but this time more erotically hypnotic. "What is it, baby?"

She still smiled, but it was a little different now, her exotic Egyptian looking eyes half hooded as she looked up at him, lips just barely parted as she ran her fingertips up and down the tattoo on his forearm. "Will you take me home now," she leaned close and lightly, slowly, kissed his neck on both sides, infusing him with the little embers that hadn't quite burnt out from before, letting her words light the rest of the blaze. "And fuck me?"


	20. All Opie's Fault

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 20

Joss was really getting frustrated with this, and so was Tig. It was hard to work like this, he needed both of his hands to fix a transmission, and with Joss cuffed to him, that was impossible. He'd tried everything, tried to make her feel useful by giving her tools to hold, but like him, she only had one hand, and couldn't hold all that many. Besides, she'd proven to not really know what wrench was which or what the situation called for…it was only creating more friction between them than there already was. This was a bad idea…but what else was Tig supposed to have done? He had to work, and with Opie suddenly disappearing for over an hour when he went to lunch, Tig couldn't take worrying about where he went anymore. Joss was alone in the house all day, and Opie knew where the house was, he'd done the wiring! It had gotten to the point now that every time Tig flipped a light on or off, he was ready for the whole house to explode…but it hadn't…yet.

"Ow!" Joss howled as he'd reached across a hot engine block with a laser thermometer in the hand that hers was cuffed to. God damn it, he'd explained to her that this old Honda was in the shop because it had been overheating; what did she expect?

"I'm sorry!" He bit out at her, but he really wasn't. She'd fought with him this morning about this, and she'd been nothing but snippy since he got to work, and it was only quarter to one. Tig was on the clock until five. He sighed and rolled his eyes, when would this day finally be over? Joss had clearly had enough togetherness with him, and the sentiment was more than mutual, but at least if they were handcuffed together, Tig knew where she was, and knew that Opie wasn't putting a bullet through the back of her head. Yeah, at least there was that, and that was the most important thing, he could ignore the rest. He picked up the largest adjustable crescent wrench in the garage, the oil cap was about melded into its fitting, it was going to take some serious jockeying to get that motherfucker off…great, he'd been fighting with Joss all day, and now he had this bit of frustration to add to it! He reached down, needing both hands to adjust the wrench to the size of the oil cap while holding it firmly in place, then began to push on it with everything he had, gritting his teeth, every muscle angrily engaged from his waist to his hands, but the cap wasn't budging, it just remained stubbornly stuck, not giving in.

"Stop!" Joss's voice was getting louder every time she whined now. Tig had been able to ignore it early in the day, but now there was no way anyone in the garage could. "You do realize that you are holding my part of these handcuffs over the hottest part of this car, and the metal is sucking up all the heat and burning me!" She just plain yelled at him that time, hiding nothing in the way she felt about this situation, or him.

Tig stared dangerously at her, straightening up, it was high time to remind her who and what she was. "Joss," he said almost calmly, but then his rage took hold of him and he jerked the wrist she was joined to violently, almost pulling her off of her feet. "Shut the fuck up!" He'd yelled louder than she had, with more vehemence than she even knew how to summon, and for a moment he saw her lower lip quiver. He'd scared her, but good, he had to. Maybe now he'd be able to get through the rest of this day in peace, and keep her safe…although, she wasn't keeping up very many arguments for why he should want to right now.

Tig bent down over the cooked on oil cap again, but just as he was about to put some more tork on the wrench again, someone tapped him on the shoulder. He stood up, turning around. There stood Clay, wiping his greasy, black hands on a paper towel. He didn't look happy. Fuck!

For a moment Clay glanced over Tig's shoulder at a huffing, teary eyed Joss, but looked right back at Tig. "Is it possible we could have a word?" He asked, glancing at Joss again. "In private?"

Well, no, it wasn't…Tig began to realize he'd left the key to the cuffs on the night table…he and Joss were stuck in so many ways! "Yeah," he said to Clay though, not wanting to disappoint him. He looked over his shoulder at Joss, so annoyed with her. "Joss, cover your ears."

She just looked back at him, rolling her eyes. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

Did she not see that she'd run him out of the meager boundaries of decorum he had today. "I said cover your ears!" He yelled, something in his voice that he usually only heard when he was screaming at someone he just hated. "And hum!"

Joss narrowed her eyes and scowled at him, she was so full of defiance today, and Tig already was planning on how to break her of that. But at the moment she of course had no choice but to comply, and she did, but let him know with her malevolent stare just how much she hated it and him right now.

Tig turned back to Clay, completely calm. "That's the best I can do," he admitted. "But go ahead, what did you need?"

Clay couldn't help but look at Joss, the odd way she was standing with her own hand over one ear and both Tig's hand and hers pressed to the other side of her head, like Tig's fingers were sticking out of her ear as she angrily hummed "The Battle Hymn of the Republic." "Look," Clay finally began. "I understand why you're doing this, and I can't blame you," he said, then sighed. "But, we got to do something about this little 'chain gang' at work, okay?"

Tig's heart sank, he just deflated inside. Clay wasn't happy with him. "Yeah," he said, his voice hushed, feelings hurt. He didn't want to see her right now, but he couldn't help but turn and look at Joss. Fuck, but she did get him into some tight spots, usually mental and emotional ones, but this, well, this was unacceptable. "I'll take care of it, Clay." He promised, and before Clay was even gone, Tig had again turned to Joss, who still hummed and covered her ears, and out of nowhere he grabbed her by the throat with his free hand, not so easy to do with a large crescent wrench in his hand, but somehow he'd managed. "Joss!" he growled at her, shaking her until her hands fell away from her ears and she looked at him with fear in her eyes. "You have got to keep your fucking mouth closed! Imagine some place you'd like to be, and fucking go there! Stop getting in my way, and just follow along! Can you do—"

"And what if I don't want to?" She growled back, and there was that tone of voice…she'd somehow slipped from the grasp Tig had on her, and then he heard her exhale, her eyes taking on that weird glow of hell's fire. She arched her back, both her hands not clenching into fists, but her fingers bending maniacally until they weren't fingers anymore, they were claws. "I didn't want to come here!" She began; that slinking malevolence to her voice again, and she was stepping closer to him, and closer, so angry that Tig swore he could feel it coming off of her like steam on a hot street after a rainstorm. "This was your idea!" Her voice had not only gotten louder, but higher pitched; here came the spider monkey! She'd be wailing like a banshee soon and if he wasn't careful, those claws would be going for whatever part of him she could get too…and he was handcuffed to her! Fuck! There was no use in trying to talk her down now, he'd seen it break over her; she'd lost her fucking mind, both of her arms trembling as they rose in front of her, as much as she could get both of them too, reaching out towards him, but moving like the blades in a blender. "I fucking hate it here and I want to go home!" It was the last thing he'd heard her say that was intelligible, her voice not even a voice anymore, but she was no less quiet, just screaming these high pitched noises like a cat being torn apart, at the top of her lungs, as her hands began slashing at him.

Usually, the best thing to do in this situation was to shove her into some small space and bolt the door, it would work itself out and she'd be fine…or, to take cover himself in some small space, and let Joss work herself out…but neither option was available to Tig now, particularly not with these fucking handcuffs! But Joss was coming at him, full force and full on spider monkey crazy, and he couldn't get away from her, one of her swinging claws catching him just beneath his eyebrow, another on the same hand hooked his ear and she slashed him open, leaning forward now with a visceral, insane screech, her teeth bared and open wide, going for his throat. Tig's anger was beyond full attention now and it flipped his own switch; he swung the crescent wrench, felt the contact it made against Joss's head, heard her skull crush beneath the blow, and she fell to the ground so fast and hard that it jerked him down onto one knee.

Jesus! What happened? What had he done? "Joss!" He yelled, shaking her violently, but her only response was the warmth of her blood that pooled around his knee. "No!" There were tears in Tig's eyes, why did she have to come at him like that? "Joss!" He called again, louder this time, as if maybe she just couldn't hear him. Fuck! No, he couldn't lose her, she meant too much to him to lose her, particularly by his own hand over something like this. But she wasn't moving, or breathing, she was just laying there, her head turned out towards the open bay door, her beautiful green eyes wide, but seeing nothing. "No, baby, no…please!" He was a mess, openly crying and shaking her like it was somehow going to work, the idea that she needed help finally filtering through his panic. "Someone call 911!"

Someone he couldn't see was walking towards him, the steps not so hurried, but soon they stopped, and Opie was looking down at him, and at Joss. He shook his head. "It's too late for that now, man."

Chapter 20; Part 2

There was a muffled scream, then the bed shook, Joss's eyes opened, the room was still dark, and she could hear Tig, who was sitting up now, breathing hard and making some kind of growling noises like he was frustrated with something. She rolled her eyes then closed them again. "Tig, I'm on my side, I'm not touching you, and my hair is in a braid, so it's not touching you either, I swear."

"What?" He asked her after a few seconds, his breathing still ragged and he was still sitting up. "No, I just had this…dream, that's all."

At that Joss's eyes sprang open and she sat up, feeling guilty. Tig didn't often have dreams that affected him like this, but it wasn't unheard of, either. "Oh no," she sighed, turning to him, her first instinct to put her arms around him and comfort him, but with Tig, that only made things worse. She reached out and laid her hand gently on his arm, letting him know she was there. He was sweaty, still trying to catch his breath, his chest heaving as he held his head in his hands, elbows on his knees. Joss's heart was breaking for him; she reached beside her and grabbed a tissue from the box on her side of the bed, folding it and without saying a word, pressing it to the tears she could just make out on Tig's cheek. "Are you okay? Were you in Africa again?" Most of his dreams were about Somalia, but not all of them. The ones that had him this shaken up though, those were usually the Africa dreams.

"No!" He was quick to say it and she could tell he meant it, so Joss backed off. "Don't make me talk about it," he more begged her that told her, and his voice was softer now, like he was sorry he'd nearly yelled at her before. He was just staring down at the sheets like he couldn't look at her, and Joss began to wonder if he'd had a dream that she'd betrayed somehow, and she felt tears in her own eyes. Tig brushed away her hand with the blotting tissue and took a deep breath, but still didn't look at her. "Just…come here." He beckoned to her with one arm.

Joss moved closer, not sure what he wanted, but certain that he'd tell her where "here" was. He put his arm around her, turning towards her a little more and pulled her close, pressing her cheek into the dark curls on his chest, making her want to nuzzle against them and smile, but she didn't, her arms bending, but she knew not to put them around him and embrace him the way he was her, and so she began to just lay her palms flat against his chest, but Tig balked at that also.

"No, don't touch me, just come here," he said desperately and pulled her even closer, with her arms now down at her sides doing nothing, his head bent against her shoulder now, his eyes squeezed shut against her neck, he was still shaking a little. What had he been dreaming? She'd never seen him like this. "Just come here," he said again, sort of moaning it, hugging her tighter and tighter until it was difficult to get a breath into her lungs. "Come here, come here, come here…"

"I'm here, Tig," she whispered against his chest, but it didn't seem like it was calming him any, he still shuddered, and it felt like there were more tears falling onto her neck from his eyes, but she knew he didn't want her to do anything but what she was doing now. Just let him hold her, just bear the pressure of this needful affection, but pay no attention to it.

He'd been a little jumpy at times ever since the party, and Joss suspected it had to do with his brother she'd come to find out was the Opie he'd mentioned being Piney's son, who had also wired the house. Tig usually went to work in the morning and then called her at lunch, and maybe before he left for the day to let her know he was on his way home, but within the last two days, he'd been calling her randomly four, five, even six times a day, always asking the same question: "Everything okay?" But he never would tell her why things might not be.

Slowly Tig let go of her, taking another deep breath and seeming like he was more together now. He looked at her and stroked the braid her hair was in where it lay over her shoulder. "I don't like it this way," he told her, picking up her platted hair. "Let it loose, if it touches me, I'll deal."

She smiled a little, he was so inconsistent sometimes. Joss slipped her black polished fingernail beneath the elastic band that held her braid together, pulling off, next moving to unwind her braid, but Tig was doing it for her, pulling his finger through it and combing it out straight again with his hands. "I don't like it braided up either." She faintly smiled at him, trying to gauge where he was and what she could and should say.

Tig was stone though. "I'm getting up. There's no way I'm going back to fucking sleep and dreaming that again!" He said fiercely, and put both his feet on the floor, his back to her. Joss stole a glance at the clock, it was only a bit after three; he didn't have to be at work for another four hours.

"Tig, I know it must have been pretty bad," she said, trying not to sound like she was prying. But he really should try to sleep. He hadn't been sleeping all that well for the last two or three nights and today was Friday. Not only did he have a full day at the garage, but there was "church" tonight and the usual party afterwards. "But I don't think you declaring war on sleep is going to help things. You've got enough crazy going on; if you throw sleep deprivation in there with it you may not be as in control of it as you usually are."

He was looking away from her, but Joss saw him flinch right after she'd said it, and now another tremor coursed through him, his hands clenched. "I just gotta get up, Joss! I gotta do something!"

She sighed, Tig and his anxiety, although she'd never let him know he was prone to it. "Okay," she said, turning and putting her feet on the floor as well. "If you're getting up, so am I."

"What?" he looked over his shoulder at her, squinting objectionably. "You don't have to, you can go back to sleep."

Ah, but he hadn't said, "I don't want you to, I want you stay here, I don't want you to get up." Joss smiled to herself, he wasn't that hard to figure out, but she'd never let him know that either. "Oh please," she groaned, getting to her feet and walking around to his side of the bed. "Like we both don't already know that the 'something' you're going to go do is put on your old Van Halen CD and crank it up, so I can lay up here, unable to sleep because 'Pan-Na-Ma-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah' is rattling the floorboards."

Finally the faint shape of a smile crossed Tig's face, but he got up and went downstairs, saying nothing. Joss followed, knowing she'd likely end up falling asleep on the loveseat while Tig maintained this odd, anxious vigil, but she had to go with him; sometimes he would consent to a neck and shoulder rub, and whatever she could do to relax him, Joss was willing to do. Once she'd gotten down to the living room though, Tig was already looking in the CD case, maybe it was just some silly spitefulness, but it was the Van Halen CD that was in his hand. He grinned at her because he knew she couldn't stop him, and put the CD in the player. She shook her head at him and walked passed him into the kitchen. Tig was definitely not a warm milk type of person, but Joss grabbed a bottle of beer from the fridge and opened it; sometimes, that got him to go back to sleep too. When she returned to the living room he was sort of lounging on the couch in his ratty gray sweat pants, shirtless, smoking a cigarette and listening to his music.

"Here," she said, nudging his arm with the beer bottle, then went to take her place on the loveseat and wait and see if Tig really wanted to talk after all.

"Thanks." He said, the stereo remote in his hand as he bumped through the tracks, finally stopping on the one she'd gotten so used to hearing.

"What is it with you and this song?" She sighed, because really, he'd never been to Panama, that she knew of, and the stupid song really didn't have anything to do with Panama to begin with.

"I never told you that?" He asked as if he was surprised, exhaling smoke and then taking a sip of beer.

"No," Joss shook her head. "How to get the most out of an oxygen tank you covered, but Van Halen you skipped." She laughed.

Tig smiled for a second, but then his expression was all foreboding. "You don't repeat this, got it?"

Joss nodded, so used to that warning before anything personal he told her. There were so many things that she was not to repeat…and she hadn't.

"When I was in Somalia," he began, and Joss got the impression that Tig had set this whole thing up, with the song that was, hoping it would put her at ease that he'd been dreaming about Africa, and to just forget about it. But Joss knew it was something else, but she'd never say so right now, at this moment; she just kept her mouth closed and listened to what Tig was telling her, because it was no less something about him she didn't know. "It was just a whole lot of either being scared to death, or being bored to death; when you weren't one, you were the other," he said, that horrified nostalgic quality to his voice that just couldn't be faked, despite the red herring the whole suggestion of him having an Africa dream was. "But there were times when my squad just had to get out of it all, had to bust off post and do something stupid. We found this old van, abandoned, only a few clicks off post, just sitting there in the bombed out street…we used to joy ride in it…and the weirdest thing was, this tape was in it," he pointed towards the stereo that was currently blaring, 'Pan-na-mah-ah-ah-ah.' He smiled now, laughed a little. "Only, we used to sing, 'Af-Ric-ah-ah-ah!'"

Joss laughed; he was trying to push her in the wrong direction with that anecdote, but that he told her about it was no less touching. Something was bothering him, and if he wanted her to think it was just his Post Traumatic Stress, then that was fine, she could handle that, while trying to get some more information about what was really going on. "It's going to be okay, Tig." She said, "You've survived a lot of things, even me," she smiled. "Everything will be fine."

He nodded, but she knew he wasn't really listening to her; he was gone inside his head again, but it wasn't Africa he was traipsing through in there, it was some other jungle. "Joss," her name just appeared out of his mouth, without him looking at her.

"Yeah?" She asked, watching him, and noticing how fidgety he was becoming.

"You know you mean…a lot to me, right?" There went his nervous knee, jumping as he said the words.

That had surprised her, but why he'd say that, now, was making her worry more and more about what it was that truly had him so rattled. "I know," she smiled warmly at him then her smile became more of a smirk. "And I really am sorry about it, too!"


	21. Mechanically Inclined

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 21

"Okay, what's this called?" Tig moved onto the next of the automotive hand tools he'd laid out on the skid of the empty lift, pleased with how Joss had paid attention and was able to repeat back to him everything he'd said to her, word for word, as soon as he held something up to her. She was obviously confused by why he was making her learns this, but it that didn't matter, all that mattered was that she'd know.

"A Hex Key wrench," she said, and before he could even ask the next part of the question, she sighed and continued. "It's little and 'L' shaped so you can work in tight spaces that you can't always jam a bigger wrench into."

"Good!" He smiled at her, this time handed her the next tool. "Tell me about this one."

She grasped the long, cylindrical tool, her finger for a moment playing with the adjustable circular head of it. "It's a Torque Wrench, for tightening up any nuts or bolts you had to remove, and making sure they're back on tight."

He hadn't expected any less of her, Joss being gifted with the IQ she was gifted with and all, but Tig couldn't help but be amazed and proud. He liked teaching her things, he was quickly finding that out, and it was because she learned so swiftly and so well. What she learned from him made her more his, and that was something he just couldn't get enough of. He hadn't realized it as he'd been doing it, but when he'd taken the extra few minutes after work today to lay out his little lesson plan on the lift skid, he'd been looking forward to doing this with her! Tig wasn't even sure now what he'd wanted more when he'd made the trip back to the house to pick Joss up; to have her with him at the party tonight after "church," or just to have this educational moment with her. He knew Joss wouldn't understand why they were doing this, but as his property, it wasn't her job, or even her right, to understand, it was her job to do what he said, and she was. She was so perfect! What? How the hell had things progressed to the point where he was satisfied to be teaching the little, rich brat what wrench was which and what it was used for, and be enjoying every minute of doing so? Fuck…they probably didn't make any kind of prescription drugs to prevent the onset of that…

Joss was on the verge of getting bored, her fingers playing at the hem of the black baby-T she wore with the python printed on it as if the snake held her slim body within its coils. Her patch covered the whole snake detail, but the head of the serpent still peaked out of the top, looking nearly like a real animal. She loved that shirt, but she didn't like that it was short, and when she moved, it rode up enough to show her splenectomy scar, even though Tig insisted it was hardly anything to be worried about, the surgery had been laproscopic after all. But still, Joss would always see it and then sigh, looking so depressed over it; "I'm marred," she'd say to him, "the only marks on me should be yours, not anyone else's."

He couldn't have her pulling on that shirt now and worrying about stuff that really didn't matter to him though. He wanted her to learn. "Joss," he said to her, watching her fighting to keep the shirt in contact with the waistband of her skinny jeans, "it's fine, baby. You're beautiful, leave it alone." Before she could protest, he moved to the last tool, but he didn't touch this one, just pointed to it, that was all. He'd needed to use it earlier today, and as soon as he'd touched it, a chill had gone through him, and he'd nearly dropped it onto the concrete floor. "What's this?"

Joss stared down at it like it was nothing to her, which it of course wasn't. "A Crescent Wrench."

Tig shook his head, he'd told her more about than just that. "And?"

Joss stared down at the wrench, her brow furrowed; Christ, did she forget? Tig began to feel nervous. Then she seemed to find the answer he sought, looked back up at him. "It's adjustable."

Well, okay, he had described it as such, but that was so far from what he wanted her to repeat to him. "And?" He said again, more demanding this time, feeling like he was going to start shaking soon uncontrollably if she didn't get this one. "C'mon, Joss, don't let me down!"

But she looked lost, looking at him and shaking her head like she couldn't imagine what he wanted her to say, Tig's eyes boring into hers, his hands moving outwardly from her mouth as if he could pull the words he wanted to hear out of her, but of course he couldn't. He was about to give up and go through it with her again, feeling so demolished inside, but then he saw Joss squint at him, giving him an 'are you serious?' kind of look. He nodded excitedly, his hand back in action again, pulling harder at the words he knew were still in her head.

"It's really fucking heavy, so don't make you hit me with it." She definitely couldn't believe that this was the thing he'd been so eager for her to say, but who the fuck cared, she'd remembered it!

"Yes!" He made a fist in the air and sounded like his team had just scored a touchdown or something. He smiled, took her by the shoulders and kissed her quickly. "Christ, Joss, for a minute I thought you forgot the most important thing I told you!"

"That is the most important thing you told me?" She asked, still lost, but she smiled and started to laugh.

"Yeah," Tig answered, but now he felt a little sheepish about it. "Look, it just makes me feel better, okay?"

"Okay," Joss smiled, reaching down and lightly touching both his forearms as she drew a bit closer to him. "If it helps you sleep at night, I'll do anything."

Tig's smile was softer now than it had been, he took one step closer to her, wanting to wrap his arms around her and hug her so tightly that he lifted her off the ground, but they weren't exactly alone, Clay was in the office still, and Tig wasn't about to be caught overreacting to what he was feeling for this damn girl. "I know," he said, almost whispering, looking down at her and letting himself enjoy how her fingertips gently grazed over his tattoo. "You're a great girl, Joss." That time he did whisper, only she could have heard him, and she did. She smiled, but as soon as she heard the office door open, she knew to let go of him and just back up, nonchalantly, calling no attention the fact that there had been any closeness between them. She was so perfect!

"Hey, Joss!" Clay smiled, walking right over to where Tig stood with her and giving her a hug, Joss kissing Clay's cheek as he did. "Still ridin' with him, huh?" He laughed, indicating Tig with a nod of his head.

"I think it's the other way around." She laughed having made sure Tig wanted her to do anything first.

Clay laughed but then turned to Tig. "We'll be ready start in about twenty minutes," he said, then noticed all the tools that were displayed on the lift skid. "You training our new mechanic?" He laughed, putting his arm around Joss and grinning at her.

Joss looked to Tig, but that was no surprise, because she didn't know what the hell was going on anyway with why he'd made her memorize the wrenches. "Just giving her some insight on what pays the bills, that's all." He answered, and reached for a cigarette.

Clay nodded, but then an idea seemed to suddenly come to him, he let go of Joss and looked at Tig. "Hey, you know, Nita's on vacation the week after next. That leaves Gemma home with the kid," he said. "How about if Joss comes in and answers the phones, makes the appointments and does all the legit payroll stuff that Gemma usually takes care of?"

Tig couldn't believe it. He hadn't said a word to Clay about the horrible dream he'd had the night before, but now, here was an opportunity for Joss to be where he could keep an eye on her, incase there was any shit with Opie, and he wouldn't have to be handcuffed to Joss! That hadn't ended well…no, he wasn't thinking about that ever again. "Yeah, man!" Tig smiled, but hoped he didn't sound too excited about it. "She can do it!"

Chapter 21; Part 2

"Wastler…tire recycling…209-111-9000" Joss quietly repeated to herself as she sat at Gemma's desk, flipping though the well used rolodex, memorizing each supplier's phone number, address and what parts or services Teller-Morrow usually dealt with them in. Clay and Tig were over at the chapel, doing the customary sweep for any bugs before "church," and it had been Tig's suggestion that she stay over here and "get the feel" of things in the office, so when she did start her temporary job, she'd already be up to speed. He'd seemed very excited about this, and so was Joss. Riding to work with him, having lunch with him, being able to look out a window and see what her man did all day…with all those wrenches…it would be great! Besides, sitting her prepping for work was more entertaining than waiting on Tig's bike until "church" was over…she'd come to hate being left on the back of a bike to do nothing but wait, but she'd known she'd signed up for it tonight, as only fully patched SAMCRO members were able to attend the Friday night meetings. It didn't matter now, she was busy, happily so, because Tig was happy about her having this job at the garage, and she wanted to make him proud.

She'd heard a bike pull up near the office, but she thought nothing of it, there were a lot of bikes arriving for "church" and it was probably just someone looking for Clay. They'd figure out he wasn't here once they noticed the bay doors were shut and that the only light in the office was a computer screen, where Joss was memorizing the Excel document and all its formulas for the payroll, while flipping through the rolodex. "Church" would be in session in about five more minutes, maybe less. Whoever it was would soon be on their way over to the clubhouse, and she'd be in peace to continue with her multitasking. Doing two things at once like this was no problem for her, in fact, it helped her to focus more on what she did, until, damn it…her finger slid the wrong way over the cardstock pages of the rolodex, and her middle finger was now bleeding, nicely…and stinging pretty decently too. Great, just what she needed; to be putting blood all over Gemma's shit! She pushed herself away from the desk with her knee, looking for something to wrap around her dripping finger, a tissue, a napkin, a scrap piece of paper, but Gemma had a thing for order and cleanliness, and there was nothing like that to be had. But, there was the water cooler, with its little pointy ended cups. It was better than nothing; blood was running down to her wrist now. She swiveled the chair around and reached for the cup dispenser, just as the office door opened.


	22. Heart Attack

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 22

Joss was stunned; she recognized the beard, the black skull cap folded up in the front over the brown hair, the black leather jacket the cut was snapped to. Opie! What did she do now? Or was there even a reason to do anything? Even if there was, she couldn't call Tig. He was in the chapel, and as were the rules, all cellphones were deposited into a cigar box in the clubhouse outside of the chapel. Getting up and running over there wasn't logical…Opie was here, and he blocked the doorway. But, he didn't look like he meant her any harm; he looked more startled and surprised to find her in here.

"Oh," he flinched as his eyes settled on her, realizing he'd scared her. "I'm really sorry; I thought maybe Clay was still over here, checking the repo-list, or something."

Joss shook her head, afraid to speak…and she couldn't speak, she had no clearance to speak to Opie, and it didn't matter that Tig wasn't here to see that she was or was not obeying the rules of her patch. She didn't know Opie, she couldn't trust him, a lot of things could hide a lot about what his intentions were, she'd had absolutely no time to get a feel for who and what he was the first time she'd "met" him. She only had Tig's reactions to go on, and they weren't good. She hoped that now that he'd apologized and seen that she wasn't Clay, Opie would just go away, but he smiled at her and continued to stand there in the doorway.

"It's Joss, right?" He asked, smiling as he pointed to her, and she was confused because his voice was so jovial, making her want to talk to him. He didn't sound like he had some malignant motive; hell, Tig sounded more menacing yelling, "I'm home, baby" from the foyer when he got in from work. But come on, he had to know the rules, she couldn't talk to him, so why was he acting like she could?

He laughed a little, maybe realizing now that by MC law she had to play mute. "Yeah, you're Joss." He said, leaning comfortably in the doorway now as though he intended to stay and talk "at" her for a while, but then his brow furrowed and his smile faded. "Whoa, what happened?"

What was he talking about? What was he looking at? Shit! Her finger! Great, there stood a possible shark, and there was literal blood in the water! And fuck it, but the blood had dripped onto her new jeans in three places, too! God damn it! She had to go to the party in another hour or so, and now they were ruined! There was no chance that Tig was going to take her all the way home so she could change, and then drive all the way back out again. They only lived about seven minutes away, but still, he wouldn't do it, she knew that. What? Why the fuck was she worried about that, now? Her wardrobe was the least of her problems! There may not be any party for her tonight! What was wrong with her priorities? Well…nothing. Joss had been around a lot of bad asses and just plain asses by now, if Opie was meaning to fuck her up somehow, he was certainly taking the long road to doing it when he only had a short amount of time to pull it off, what with the "church" bell about to ring.

Opie stepped closer, his knees bending and he squatted down to examine her hand. "I know you're bound by being property and all but," he said looking up at her apologetically as he gently took her by the wrist of the bloody finger, tilting her hand more upwards in the hopes that the bleeding would lessen. She couldn't even talk to him, and both of them knew that he definitely shouldn't have been touching her, it didn't' matter why. But he wanted to help her, he looked so concerned. "I'm all you've got right now and you're going to have to tell me what happened."

Well, okay…the last thing she needed was one of Tig's worried brothers, whom she shouldn't have been talking to, to call 911 for her paper-cut. But, how did she pantomime "I got a paper-cut on my finger from the rolodex and I was trying to get a pointy cup?" She opened her mouth to try to explain, but she felt so unsure, and all she could think about was how Tig would react if he found out she'd been talking to Opie…he'd be so pissed off. But that wouldn't be the worst of it; he'd also be disappointed in her, and after he'd been so obviously proud of her with how she'd carried herself around the club…no, she wouldn't do it; she wouldn't betray her man like that. She sighed, closed her mouth again and shook her head at Opie, giving her shoulders a subtle shrug; this was out of her control, she couldn't talk to him, and she wouldn't.

But instead of being frustrated with her, or threatening her, or anything that Joss had expected out of someone who she assumed was the reason for Tig's sleepless nights, Opie just looked up at her with more concern, understanding that he was on his own in trying to figure this out, and carefully began to touch and inspect each of her fingers. Joss felt herself turn to ice, now he was touching her with both his hands! She had to make this stop, this was not allowed; Tig would be all over her if he knew. She went to pull her hand back from Opie, her erratic movement getting her blood on his fingers now, but just as she did, he spoke again.

"I'm not going to tell Tig you talked to me," he said, still trying to determine what kind of damage she'd done to her hand. "I know you don't know me, but you can trust me, I just want to help you."

Could she trust him? It was a little unsettling that he said she could. You could never trust anyone who said you could trust them; that Joss knew. That's one of the things that had drawn her to Tig, he never said anything about it being okay to trust him, he never made any promises that he'd take care of her and love her forever; he gave her no false hopes, and in that same way, he never lied to her either. But there was something in the way that Opie looked up at her, holding her bleeding hand so kindheartedly, his eyes so…open…well, of course they were open, but it was like he was letting her see everything, not hiding a thing from her. Maybe he was what he said he was; maybe she could talk to—fuck that! If he really wanted to help her, and not put her in this type of conspicuous situation, he'd stand up right this minute and just go and get her old man, the one she was property of! Oh…but assuming there was some kind of conflict between him and Tig, if she were Opie, would she go rushing into the chapel, alerting Tig, when his old lady's blood was on her hands? Hmm…this was a real stalemate.

Opie still held her hand, so tenderly, but he sighed, looked away like he wished things were different and nodded his head. "Okay, you're right, and I do respect your loyalty to Tig." He said then looked back at her again, his eyes holding hers like she'd won this one, but he wasn't giving up. He smiled like he had so many hopes, drawing back from her just enough to shake his head slowly and gaze at her like he was staring at her from across a crowded room. "It's really a beautiful thing, he's a lucky guy."

Joss stiffened in the chair, wondering what might come next, this was beginning to feel a little bit…well, she didn't know exactly. Her experience with men was nothing but a bunch of fucked up shit. Until Tig, but even that had not and never would resemble any kind of courtship that was easily recognizable to most people. She could only nod, and sit there bleeding and waiting for this to take some kind of more ominous turn that she'd have no trouble comprehending.

Opie turned her hand over, looking at her palm now. "So, can you let me know if it's bad, at least?" He asked, the blood on his fingers now staining her palm as he searched for some obvious laceration. Joss shook her head, trying once again to pull her hand out of his, but Opie held it tighter. "Wait, wait, wait," he said quickly, increasing the contact between his hand and hers until he was now holding it as if they were about to get up and walk away together. "Let me get the first aid kit Gemma keeps in here, it's the least I can do." He smiled and laughed a bit at her apprehension she guessed. He let go of her hand, rising and going over to the filing cabinet, opening the top drawer and taking out an old metal tool box. He opened that, gathering gauze, hydrogen peroxide, and a band-aid. "I'm used to doing this," he said to her as he gathered all of the needed materials. "I'm a single dad, now. My little boy, he's been trying these crazy stunts on his Huffy, always skinning his knees." He kind of laughed again, opening the hydrogen peroxide and pouring it carefully onto the gauze pad he held, then turned back to her and squatted down in front of Joss again, taking her hand in his once more. "Let's get you cleaned up," he smiled, his eyes looking up into hers and just continuing to look into hers even as Joss felt the cool dampness of the gauze pad being wiped over her fingers. "You seem like a really nice girl," Opie said, his voice a little lower in volume and smoother in tone now, like he was saying something just for her to hear. "I hope we can get to know each other."


	23. Translation

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 23

Tig had never needed Joss quite the way he needed her now. Just when he'd thought there were enough things on his mind to fuck him up, "church" had added to it all in a major way. The most recent lot of AK's and the club's signature M-16's that they'd been running, every fucking one of them had been tracked, tagged by Mayan informants…ATF hadn't been sniffing around the club very much lately, now it made sense why, they had Mayans doing it for them. But something was creeping towards SAMCRO, and they had proof of it. The garage was outfitted with four security cameras, only one of which was a legitimate, working camera, and somehow, by some luck, the three Mayans casing the garage two nights ago had managed to stand right under the damn thing and have a whole conversation…in Spanish…which Juice, despite a last name like "Ortiz," was no more help in being able to translate than Tig was himself. How in hell was it that they were an MC based in California, and no one immediately connected to them spoke Spanish? But Joss, her number was up, she'd been called into service by Clay himself, right after Tig had swore she'd be nearly fluent in Spanish if she was given two, maybe three hours.

Everything, from Opie to Agent Stahl, was all twisting his gut and his mind, and the thought of going back to jail was the worst…he fucking hated being in jail…and it would be so much worse now that he had Joss…oh shit, why'd have to think of it that way? Before now, the thought of going to jail was about the same as knowing he'd have to get up early in the morning, with a hangover, but now…that damn girl, she really was everywhere…EVERY where. But still, despite everything that was weighing him down, Tig couldn't have been more proud! It wasn't fair to say that Gemma sometimes helped with club business, that woman was a SAMCRO saint, she was as valuable as any patched member, and everyone knew it. Other than Gemma though, women, hangarounds, old ladies, they were just pussy, and pussy was only good for one thing. Well, okay, Jax's doctor bitch did come in handy now and then, but that was all part of her Hippocratic Oath, she was bound to give aid to anyone who was hurt or sick, it didn't matter what colors were on their back. But this, Joss, her IQ separated her from the rest, she had something no one else's old lady had, and the club could use it! She was perfect, so perfect!

Because of that fact, Tig was in a fairly good mood when he opened the office door, thinking how it wasn't just Spanish that Joss could help out the club with if another situation, with another language somehow erupted. And now, after a few hours of studying, Joss would always know how to speak, read and write Spanish, she'd really be the go to, and he was indescribably pleased to be the keeper of her gates. He had been looking forward to seeing Joss after "church," and bringing her back to the party even before tonight's troubling announcement, but now he was excited about seeing her for this other reason all together. Plus, all he'd been thinking about was that long silky black hair with the crimson tips, her red lips, white skin, the two emeralds that crowned the dark Cleopatra eyes, and that body, how he felt when she looked at him and just waited for his command…he missed—No he didn't, he'd only been away from her for maybe an hour and a half for fuck sake! Jesus Christ, what kind of ninny was he turning into? Whatever. He was looking forward to seeing her…because he was going to tell her about how she was going to help the club, but when he'd opened the office door, she'd all but screamed.

"What? I scare you?" He asked, sounding more annoyed than he actually was, she'd just startled him, and he hated being startled.

"Well," she took a deep breath, looked all around the desk like she'd lost something, or was trying to hide it, but there was nothing on the desk. Maybe she was trying to hide that? "Yeah, you kinda did, I was immersed on how all this…everything…fits together."

He nodded. "You gettin' it okay?" Something was strange about her though, and she had a band-aid on her middle finger that she didn't have when he'd left her, there was blood on her jeans. She wander out of the office and start messing the tools he'd showed her? Or was it…something else? "Whatjado?"

"Oh," Joss sighed, put on a smile. "I got a paper cut while flipping through the rolodex, a pretty fierce one, too." She held her hand up to show him, but she was still thinking a mile a minute, and it wasn't about office stuff, Tig could tell that. "I'm hoping I didn't bleed on anything of Gemma's…she doesn't even know I'm sitting here at her desk, looking at all this stuff to begin with!"

He didn't know anything about make up, but he could have sworn that when he'd left Joss, that black, Egyptian princess eyeliner had been a little crisper, a little less smudged. "Joss?" he said, his concern, and suspicion, growing…Opie, he'd been the last to show up for "church" tonight, "Something, or someone, make you cry?"

Chapter 23; Part 2

Opie's back and head hit the paneling of the clubhouse so hard that two of the framed mug-shots were rocked off the wall and hit the floor, the glass shattering. This party was nowhere near as big as the other party Joss had been to with Tig; if it had been, then there'd have been plenty more members to try and pull Tig off of Opie, but as it was now, there was only Bobby and Happy doing their best to contain Tig, holding his shoulders and fighting for control of his swinging arm, while Jax and Chibs tried to get Opie back on his feet. Clay yelled again and again at them both, trying to get in between the two brothers, but it was like he wasn't even there…it was like none of them were there, Tig just kept punching down on Opie, unstoppable and ignoring everything around him. Hangarounds and strippers were screaming and rushing out of the way, part of Joss feeling the need to do the same, but she'd been told by Tig to sit there at the bar and read the Spanish/English dictionary he'd shoved into her hand right before he looked up and caught sight of Opie. But how could she read at a time like this? She wasn't even sure what to do, looking on either side of her at Juice and Half-Sack, who stood with her the moment it all went down, but it wasn't because they'd been told to, this was just the protection of the club kicking in. She could barely breathe, didn't want to watch anymore, but she couldn't take her eyes off of the carnage; Tig, he was…oh God…

"Don't worry, ma'am," Half-Sack whispered, looking at her for a moment, his face as blank as hers was. "Tig'll come out of this alright, I've seen it before."

Joss was still so shaken, she looked at Sack for a moment, watching him watch Tig and the merciless way he just kept at Opie, blood flying everywhere now with each punch. She knew Tig's reputation, she knew what he did to anyone he was either set upon, or who he deemed wronged him somehow, she knew what he'd done to Butcher; yeah, she knew exactly what Tig was…but she'd never seen it before. That night two years ago…she'd been the same way, she'd been the same thing…emptying that clip into her father…unable to stop, just kept shooting.

Opie hadn't helped things. He could have—No! He should have apologized to Tig for everything that had transgressed in the office with her. Joss had told Tig everything, from not being able to find anything to blot her bleeding finger on to Opie's verbalized hope that they could "get to know each other better." Tig knew everything, he knew how it all went down, he knew she hadn't talked to Opie, he knew she was innocent, but now Joss began to wish she'd been able to hold some of the details back…but she couldn't help it. Tig owned her, if he asked her to tell him something, she had no choice but to report what she knew. And besides, the instant Tig had asked if something had happened, she just fell apart, so confused by Opie's visit and his words and his actions, and his motives, and so scared that it all could only mean trouble for her. Old ladies, particularly property, were off limits in every way to anyone but the men that owned them. Screwing around with someone else's old lady, or property, was a death sentence…for the offending brother, and the woman he touched.

She wasn't sure how it happened; maybe Tig was getting tired, but finally Bobby, Happy and Clay were able to tear him off of Opie, pushing him back until he now stood beside Joss and Sack. Tig was out of breath and covered in tiny flecks of blood, and it was dripping from every ring on his fingers too. He didn't look at her, but Joss saw Tig close his eyes like he was suddenly going to meditate on what he'd done. Jax and Chibs stood Opie up, Joss looked away; she didn't want to see what he looked like, surprised to hear that he was still breathing. She really thought Tig was going to kill him, just keep on punching him until there was no face left to pound upon. Oh god…what if she'd been wrong about Opie? What if he was just trying to be nice to her, trying to get to know her as someone he also now had a stake in protecting if it ever came to it?

"Hey," Bobby looked at Sack and Juice, both of his hands on Tig's chest, keeping him where he was. "Get him a beer, he just needs to cool off."

On the other side of the room Joss could hear Opie trying to shake it off. She'd fought so hard not to look at him, but now she did. He didn't look at her either, at least, she didn't think he did, there was so much blood all over his face; it was hard to tell if his eyes were even open. There was a gash in his head that went from one ear, up over his eye and all the way over top of his nose. It was so deep, a real split in his head like someone had froze it and just cracked it open like an egg; she was sure she could see Opie's skull in places, and she looked away again, hardly able to comprehend that Tig's fist had done that kind of damage.

Clay stepped away from Tig, looking at him, then looking at Opie and moving to stand equal distance away in between them both. Joss had never seen Clay look as pissed off as he did. What would happen now? What was the penalty for jumping a brother in what had looked like an unprovoked attack?

"Alright!" Clay yelled; his voice a roar as he scowled coldly at both Opie and Tig. "What the fuck was that?"

Tig, now holding a beer, took a swallow of it, but his eyes were still seething with whatever that madness inside him was, the same madness Joss knew, but was so afraid of. He glared at Opie, looking right through Clay. "He knows!"

Jax and Chibs were both struggling to keep Opie on his feet, but to everyone's surprise, Opie laughed. "What? He should be thanking me," he was having problems breathing and had to gasp several times as he spoke, and Joss could feel Tig bristling more and more as Opie did speak. "He wasn't there to take care of his old lady when she needed somebody, but I was!"

"Shit!" she heard Jax groan, and less than a second later the beer bottle Tig had been holding flew across the room at Opie's head, missing high by barely an inch. Once more Bobby and Happy piled onto Tig, Juice joining them this time, all of them telling him to "let it go" and to "let Clay talk." Sack moved a little closer to her, standing half in front of her like he was shielding her from something.

"Joss," Clay suddenly turned to her, his voice still angry; so much for that shield. "I don't normally involve the old lady in shit like this, but I got next to no chance of getting the facts outta either one of these two right now." Clay again glowered at Opie then Tig. "You were obviously involved; what happened?"

Tig was shaking his head, getting more and more agitated, but trying to hide it. "Clay," he said, his voice compressed down from the way Joss knew he wanted to yell. "This is so not cool, man!"

Clay turned all his intensity at Tig now. "You know what's 'not cool?'" He asked; his voice not anywhere near as crazed with anger as Joss had expected it to be, but Clay was still pissed. "You beating the living shit out of one of your brothers, in this clubhouse, when to my knowledge, no one's dead, or pregnant!" Tig cursed under his breath but was otherwise silent, this time stealing a glance at her, like making sure she understood he really didn't want her to talk, but there wasn't much he could do about it if Clay were going to order her to do it. Clay's eyes quickly shifted from Tig to Joss, and this time Clay pointed his finger at her. "Joss, start explaining." He demanded, and again she saw Tig look at her sternly, but helplessly, because he wasn't in control anymore, Clay was.

Joss felt herself start to tremble; she felt dizzy, dropped the dictionary on the floor and felt her stomach aching like it never had before. Clay wanted her to talk, but Tig wanted her to shut up…maybe she should just lie about what happened? Make Opie's offense into something greater than what it was? It might save Tig some admonishment, it would likely save herself some too, but what would it cost Opie? She just couldn't shake the fear that what he'd done for her was out of something…no, fuck that! Opie had likely made the rest of her night hell, and it was probably going to get worse when she and Tig got home. Opie could have gotten her killed, along with himself! But, he could barely stand…he'd more than paid for putting a band-aid on her finger, hadn't he? Shit! She had no idea how SAMCRO handled these things, or how lenient or intolerant Clay was when it came to this shit. She had no way of knowing whether what she'd say would ease this situation, or kill a man. Tig…she loved him so much…and he wanted her to say nothing…but…

"No," Opie's voice, garbled with blood and a broken nose, interrupted the silence that was just growing longer and longer as Joss fought for an answer to her predicament. "It was me, Clay. I stepped on Tig's feet," Opie tried to lift his head to look at Tig now, but he couldn't do it, so he just sort of gave him some acknowledging salute with his finger. "Sorry, bro." He sputtered, blood and saliva dripping from his bashed lips, a big, thick flap of skin from his ear to his mid forehead being pulled further open by every movement of his jaw. "Joss didn't do anything you wouldn't have wanted her to. She loves you; don't take her head off for it."


	24. HoldingOff

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

_Warning:__ This chapter contains extremely graphic descriptions of sexual acts._

Chapter 24

"How's your hand?" Tig had taken longer than he usually did in the shower, but Joss wasn't about to question why, or even call attention to it. She also knew not to question how he was as a whole, he wouldn't tell her, and it would likely just piss him off that she'd asked. She just lay there in the bed he was still learning to share with her, her long black hair combed over her shoulder where it was loose, but still semi-contained as she looked at him, still dripping all over the carpet, a towel around his hips.

Tig shook his right hand, looking down at his red, swollen knuckles and still cursing the rings that now lay on top of the dresser, one of which he couldn't get off of his finger without some cooking oil and Joss's help. He made a fist, squeezed hard then relaxed it again. "Nothing broke," he said, and having watched him in action tonight, Joss had an idea why. If Tig always took it to someone like that, then over the years, he'd likely been causing many small fractures to the bones in his hands, and bones that knitted themselves back together actually became stronger than they were before, and now he had fists of steel. "I'll be okay tomorrow," he said to her, sighing as he did like she'd been nagging him about it constantly. "I can hold the throttle for the eight or nine hours it takes to get to Indio, okay? I've made longer runs with my shoulder busted out of socket."

"I know," Joss replied as if she were sorry for implying something, even though she hadn't been. It was just good that he was talking again; he hadn't for most of the night after the Opie beat down. He'd actually kind of grabbed her by the back of her patch and took her, and the dictionary, outside with him, where they both sat near one of the small bonfires, on his bike, in silence, Joss reading and Tig looking off at nothing Joss could see herself. She knew Spanish now though, give or take a few verb conjugations, and she'd been able to tell Clay that instead of the latest weapons shipment going to LA, it was actually headed down to the waiting hands of the ATF in Indio. Joss had been so happy to help the club; the fact that she'd been able to was likely the only thing that had mellowed Tig out tonight, but her help had also lead to more consequences for her.

Clay had called an emergency run to Indio, to intercept the guns, and see just what the club was up against. That meant Tig was leaving her, tomorrow, and neither of them knew for how long. And Opie…she'd been there in the chapel with Clay and Tig when Clay announced the run, and Tig immediately insisted that Opie make the run with them too, despite the injuries that Tara had likely been stitching up at Saint Thomas as they were meeting there in the chapel. Clay had agreed Opie would go along too; part of Joss hoped he was able to, and that he'd keep his mouth shut. Tig, he truly was not out to hurt his own brothers, he loved the club, and now he seemed like he was full of regret, apology and depression. Joss couldn't help but want to make him feel better, she loved him, and she was still scared and confused herself, but there was something about this thing between him and Opie that she just couldn't reach, it was the "club business," and she knew not to bother asking about it. But Tig, he was everything to her, and she was strong enough to get through this whole Opie thing if he said she was, he was the strength in her that she sometimes didn't know she had…but she was about to lose him for God knew how long, and in only a few hours.

"I can't believe…everything that went down tonight, this really is a lot!" She'd tried so hard not to give in and sound stressed at the party, but now, in their bedroom, between the two of them, she couldn't hold it back anymore. "And I'm sorry that I didn't handle things better with O—"

"No!" Tig turned away from the dresser and cut her immediately off with a wave of his hand. "You don't understand that, and you don't talk about it either."

But Joss just shook her head, felt like she needed to clear her name, or explain or something, but just what the answer was that was going to make her feel more secure, she wasn't sure. "Tig," she began "I want you to know…I mean, I just sorta feel…" shit, the more she babbled the more she realized she really had nothing to say, she was talking in the hopes of getting him to do something that would make this feeling of culpability go away. She knew how old she was, but she hardly ever thought about it, but at times like this, she felt every bit her young age, just a high school kid. She took a deep breath, refusing to cry. She hadn't let herself cry all night, it wouldn't have helped the situation then, nor would it help it now. She wasn't even sure why she'd be crying; for Opie? For Tig? For herself?

Opie…Tig had messed him up pretty badly, but just when Joss was full of empathy for him, he'd gone and interjected himself in between her and Clay, and in between her and Tig at the same time tonight. Why had he done that? She hadn't asked him to, she hadn't even really wanted him to…despite the noose it had freed her from at the moment. What was that King Solomon gallantry bullshit? Oh God…what was happening all of a sudden? Life was supposed to maybe not be "easy" with Tig's patch on her back, but "easier" at least. Everything that happened tonight seemed centered around her, and she couldn't shrug it off. "Tig, I just really need you!" for a moment Joss wasn't sure she'd even said that, but she'd heard someone in the room say it, and she knew it wasn't Tig. Fuck! He was going to flip out a second time now! After the night he'd had, with a nine hour run ahead of him, she'd put that on him?

But Tig didn't look angry or even annoyed as he turned away from the dresser towards her. He sighed. "What does that mean?"

Jesus, why couldn't he have said "It's okay," or even his patented, "I know"…any of them were better than being asked to explain herself! But is that what he was asking her to explain? She looked at Tig where he stood, waiting for her to say something, and he looked like he was hoping she would, his expression void of any kind of understanding or concept of what she'd said to him, and all of a sudden Joss realized, he really and truly was asking her, what did she mean. Well, how many times had he likely heard that from a woman he hadn't stripped naked, tied up to something and likely ordered to say it to him? She looked back at him, her eyes finding his and for a few seconds they just looked at each other, trying to figure the next step of this out together, because Joss wasn't sure what she'd meant herself. She'd always looked to him for guidance, and for the rules, he always lead, he always knew where things were going, and she never argued; that was her job. But this time when she looked to him, Tig just shook his head. Okay, maybe he needed her to lead for awhile? There was only one way to find out, but she had no idea where this ended herself. "Come here," she held her hand out to him, her voice more pleading with him than telling him, but it wasn't because she'd planned it that way.

Tig walked across the room, taking her hand where she sat half way up on the bed, but he looked at her a bit worriedly, like he wasn't sure if he could do whatever came next, pulling away from her even as he took a seat beside her, watching her every move, where her hands were going, what her arms were doing, fighting to not give into the urge inside him that made him so stiff and awkward in preparation to get the hell out of there. He didn't have to say a thing, Joss could tell that he hated this, detested it, it couldn't have been more off-putting or more terrifying for him, but he was here, going through hell for her, and all she'd done was ask him to "come here" and then take his hand. But she wanted to be close to him tonight, she wanted to love him, to give him all the things he was so afraid of receiving…that's what she'd meant! That's how she needed him! But how did she do that without him knowing she was doing it? Well, to start with, Joss looked at him with so much tender awareness, her eyes never abandoning his, "I know," she almost whispered then placed both her hands on his forearms, running her fingers gently from his swelled knuckles up to his elbows, but going no further. "Nothing's changed."

At that, whatever control Tig had temporarily been forced to relinquish over to her, due to his ignorance, had vanished, and he'd pushed her down onto the bed quickly, but softly, and was now above her, where he couldn't have been any more comfortably in command. His knee separated her legs, his mouth over hers, his lips not bothering to toy with hers before his tongue hunted hers down, and his hands pinning both of hers to the mattress. Joss moved beneath him, arching her back off of the bed in an effort to be even closer to him in a way that she knew Tig would allow, it felt so good to just be near him, and he was actually leaning into the way she pressed her body up to his, heavy against her in the most pleasant of ways, and then suddenly Cobra Starship invaded the moment with "Good Girls Go Bad." Both Joss and Tig flinched, each looking at the other, caught completely off guard and confused, until Joss finally sighed and rolled her eyes.

"It's Tara," she said, looking over towards her cell on the night table. "I'll call her back tomorrow, it's alright."

"No," Tig shook his head and let go of her hands, sitting up off of her a little bit, but not completely as he retrieved her phone and put it into her hand. "Answer it. We both know why she's calling you."

Well, yeah, she did know why Tara was calling; Jax hadn't been all that subtle in pulling Joss aside after the Opie thing, and then after the way Clay had kind of put her on the spot. Joss was pretty sure that Tig could hear Jax asking her, "Hey, why don't you stay with me and Tara tonight?", because he hadn't tried to hide it, or the way he'd looked over at Tig, watching him like he was still a grenade with a short fuse. Of course Jax told Tara about the fight, if it could be called that even, and Tara had been who stitched Opie up, so yeah, Tara knew everything, and Jax had likely suggested she give Joss a call, just to check on her. But there was no need for that, it felt a little intrusive, particularly when it interrupted a moment like the one it had, but Joss hadn't expected anyone to understand what she had with Tig, or how it worked, and that she was fine right now. She sighed again and flipped her phone open, finding her most normal, cheerful voice, and said, "Hey Tara!"

Chapter 24; Part 2

God fucking damn it, he should be hating this! But he was powerless to stop it, or even grunt or move or do something that would have conveyed how much he fucking hated it when she did this touching his chest, and kissing his body shit! But then, Joss had never really done it before, so…maybe he didn't actually hate it? Oh no, he fucking hated it, he knew that, but his damn dick wasn't mirroring that sentiment…fuck, it got him into more trouble, and weird shit, than Joss did, and this was just another shining example!

She'd said she "needed" him…okay, he'd try to be there for her, but it had every indication of turning into some huggy, touchy, nose-rubbing shit that he really wanted no part of…nose-rubbing? How the fuck did they get to be Eskimos? Fuck it, whatever, the point was, he knew he'd be out of his element, way way way out! And then she'd laid down for him, started acting like she wanted to hump him from below, okay, good, worked for him…and then the phone rang, but she and Tara hadn't talked for too long, Joss quickly hanging up and looking up at him again, kind of smiling at him and reached down, pulling the little nightgown she'd had on off…no panties or anything under it, just beautiful white skin, pink nipples pointing up at him, the velvet soft, shaved, outer lips of her slit kissing his knee that was between her thighs…whatever it was Tig was afraid he couldn't do, he just started doing somehow…and now he was the one on his back. What the hell? How the fuck did this happen?

"Tig," Joss whispered, her fingers creeping lightly through the hair on his chest as she knelt beside him, facing him in the dark room…he was so thankful that she'd turned the lights out…he really didn't want her to see it if he enjoyed this…which he of course wasn't! "Just close your eyes," she told him, her voice as soft as her touch, her fingers gliding like a feather up over his neck and jaw now, gingerly circling around one of his eyes, then lightly closing them both. "I'm not even here if you don't want me to be," she whispered again, her fingers slowly making their way back to his chest as she leaned over him more than she had been before. His eyes were still shut, but he could hear the soft rustle of her long, ebony and red tresses as she shook them over her shoulder, up on her knees now, one hand on either side of him as she leaned so close to him now that her sweet breath warmed his skin, hypnotizing every corpuscle. He suddenly couldn't move, had the oddest sensation of being tied up, and his eyes abruptly opened.

"Joss!" He wasn't quite sure why he'd reacted, or stopped her, she wasn't touching him, she was just…close to touching him…but she wasn't latching onto him, there was no reason for him to have objected…he was actually beginning to get into this…and, oh…so he tried to tell her to knock it off. Yeah, that made a lot of fucking sense!

Joss was far from thwarted, just cocked her head and looked at him like even she knew he didn't mean it. "Tig," she smiled, but her voice was still soft and sultry. "Let me do this," her fingers were plowing through his chest hair again, slowly, like absorbing him through each touch, loving every inch of his skin over his pectorals and sternum and ribs…she really did have a thing for his chest…why? She was such a weird chick. And then her finger brushed his nipple, then another one did, and another one, and another one…Jesus fucking Christ, how many fingers did she have? Oh fuck, she was touching him, and touching him and touching him! But oh…Ohhhh, that had felt pretty good. "Okay?" she asked him, but Tig had forgotten the question, he just wanted her to even him out and smooth those sweet, white fingertips over his other nipple.

He heard her hair rustle again…heard it? Yeah, his eyes closed themselves this time…why the hell were parts of him complying with this while others were still fighting it with every breath? He'd never been much on foreplay, for him, or whoever he was fucking, but all of sudden it was happening…and it sucked…but his dick…his stupid, big dick…it had been the first to betray him, so hard and stiff now that it lay against his abdomen, begging for some attention too, and it didn't care what kind of loving touches the rest of his body was suffering. And then there was an entirely new sensation, something smooth and sleek and gossamer soft was suddenly flicked down onto his neck and upper chest in a silky lump, and then it moved, being dragged downwards over his shoulder, his pecs, both his nipples that suddenly were more alive than he'd ever cared to think of them as being; and this incredible luscious, ticklish tide continued to wash down his body. He also felt the coolness of Joss's soothing breath as she softly blew it against his skin, preceding the long, slow sweep of her hair down his body.

He wasn't sure what he was fighting anymore, the urge to let himself shudder and moan, or the incredible sensation of millions of tiny fingers worshipping his body that made him want to shudder and moan in the first place. Either way, the fight was lost, because he felt the bed jerk, and he was the only one laying in it, Joss still up on her knees, now straddling his legs, and dragging her hair painfully slow down his stomach and waist, straight over…no, she wouldn't…he wasn't quite sure he could lay here and pretend to not feel it if she brushed the sensual treasure that was her hair over his…fuck…but she did, every last strand of luxury caressing the head of his cock, over the most sensitive place beneath the head of it, down the faint line on the underside of the shaft, and dancing lightly over his balls as she slowly raised her head. Oh God…there was fire in his veins now, that was it, he was gone, heard himself growling against the sensation but it soon became a begging groan for more, though he actually hadn't said those words…he hadn't had to…his body was on Joss's side now, bending towards her touch and not getting enough now no matter what she did. Fuck…that damn girl…

He felt her shift her weight on the bed, but his eyes wouldn't open, he wanted to be surprised, knowing she was leaning forward over him now, felt her hands on his chest again, his God damn body moving around beneath her until he'd driven both her hands over his nipples, and she immediately began to squeeze them lightly, making Tig shudder again with how amazingly confused his body was, feeling such a pleasant pain that he began to want more and more of, getting such a sudden high from it just as Joss's lips pressed lightly to his, both his hands moving like he was breaking out of restraints and clutching her by the back of head, deepening the kiss and spearing her mouth with his tongue, sucking so hard at hers, then taking her lower lip between his teeth and biting down, a bit harder than he knew she'd expected, but he couldn't let this all just pass without some reminder of just who was bigger, who was stronger, and who owned who.

Chapter 24; Part 3

Tig was beyond trying to hide it, Joss could feel his thighs trembling against her breasts and it sent such a pleasant vibration over her nipples. She was so hungry for his cock now, wouldn't dream of releasing it. He'd asked her to stroke him as she worked him with her mouth, but why stop there? She drew her head up his cock, concentrating on sucking the big round head of his organ with a bit more pressure, still lolling her tongue over him again and again, flicking her tongue teasingly in the contracting slit centered in his smooth cockhead, hearing him moan again as she drew her hand up his shaft as far as her mouth. For a brief second she removed her mouth from him only to replace her lips and tongue with her hand, squeezing his cockhead in her fist with slightly more pressure than she applied with her mouth, but twisting him nimbly in her grasp as if turning the knob of a door, then quickly sucking him back into her mouth again.

His reaction both startled her and pleased her, a great roar escaping him, his hands balling up into fists and struck the mattress, but then grabbed her hair close to her scalp, holding her there as he thrust forward, taking more of her mouth. He may have been the one on his back, but there was no control of him. Joss dropped her jaw, relaxed her throat and let him fuck her mouth.

It took more than skill, it also took trust that Tig wouldn't choke her, but Joss eased back, pulling him out of her throat though his body raged at the retreat. She drew her mouth up his shaft and took a quick gasp of air, and worked herself back down his shaft as far as she could, letting him slide back into her throat once more, the tip of her nose and her lips lost in the dark curls of hair at the base of his cock. He was too out of breath now to order or question her, his body making his consciousness a slave to the primal force it needed to feel so badly. He lay back with every muscle tensed, and let Joss do as she pleased to him; growling with how much he hated giving in, but loving the way she'd made him do so.

This was where she'd wanted him, and now she could truly begin to work him. She smoothed one hand up over his knee and over his thigh, feeling the muscles shudder beneath her palm. Her hand kept going until she cupped his balls in her hand, rubbing his scrotum and listening to him gasp and groan as she rubbed the two tense forms in her hand, all the while beginning to trace the pattern of a figure eight with the tip of her nose in the dark curls at his groin. His cock slid around her mouth, in and out of her throat, allowing her to breathe and even lick at the sensitive space on the underside of his cockhead as she swiveled her head from side to side lazily; Tig lying frozen in magnificent anguish beneath her.

His cock pounded massively against her tongue, nearly coinciding with the beating of her own racing heart. She wouldn't have him to toy with much longer, she knew he was close, so very very close; Joss could practically taste him. Tig slamming himself into her from above when he was about to cum was much more satisfying, but this had not been about her. She'd sacrificed the enormous pleasure of feeling Tig's big cock ejaculating deep inside her to instead feel him setting off in her mouth. She closed her hand around his scrotum and gave it a light tug, holding the base of his cock with her other hand once more and working her head up and down his shaft again, fast, sucking hard as she went up, keeping her lips pursed as she went back down, pushing her tongue against the little place beneath the big, round head that made him moan so much, readying for his climax, and eager to lengthen the experience for him. She'd dreamed of this moment for so long…

She could feel it building in him, a beautiful fury that began between his shoulder blades, travelling down his spine as Tig growled, his cock suddenly twitching, electrified within her mouth, the first quakes of orgasm like a crack of thunder, startling and all encompassing; Tig was cumming, hard! His anxious hands clutched at her hair and held her to him as he thrust himself into her mouth good and deep and held that way.

He was too strong to keep hold of, and so Joss again allowed him to do as he pleased, her mouth thrumming with the pulse of his laden organ, her hand though tight around the base. Tig's body jerked, every muscle bulging as if he were about to fight something to the death. He growled deeply, thrust more of himself into her throat and growled again, breathing heavier and heavier. His cock shook, vibrated, then tensed. The time was now, her deepest wish to preserve this euphoria for him! Joss pressed hard with her thumb and forefinger at the root of his shaft, closing off the path that the waiting gush of semen hurtled towards, and kept the pressure there, not allowing the release to occur.

Chapter 24; Part 4

Tig was cumming, he could feel it, but it wasn't complete, the tension only seemed to build more and more, stronger and stronger, somewhere deep within his groin and balls, though his cock spasmed violently within Joss's sweet, hot mouth. He thrashed, roared like an angry, impassioned beast, suffering through this dry orgasm and cursing whatever it was that kept him prisoner within this torment.

Jesus Christ, what was Joss doing to him? The tension in everything, his groin, his balls, his cock, was fantastic, and she was controlling it all. That damn girl…that damn, amazing, girl…fuck, he wanted to cum, crazed for it, his hands gripped her shoulders now, nearly hurting her with the amount of pressure he held her with; damn her, but she had to bring his climax to its usual depleting satisfaction, he couldn't take this anymore. Finally, something he'd done had made her sympathetic, or afraid, and she eased him out of her throat as she let go of his shaft, and not a second later he erupted like a fountain against her tongue.

There was no intensity of pleasure upon ejaculation, just the relief of pressure, the relaxation of muscles, the peace returning to his senses, but all the while he was aware of Joss sucking his quickly softening cock as if she wished to drain him of all he had. Tig drew in a deep breath and exhaled; coming back to himself, yet still feeling a ripple of the tension roll through his muscles as they loosened more and more. Joss…fuck…that's what she meant by "I need you?" He felt her release him, slinking to the edge of the bed like she was leaving him…but hell no she wasn't! Tig grabbed her and somehow had enough strength left to put her beneath him on the bed.

"I'm sorry," were her first words, and it was a bit startling to hear her say that, but Tig did understand why. He'd never let her do that to him before…he never let any woman do that to him before…he still wasn't sure how okay with it he was, but it was over, and it had been one of the most fucking extraordinary things he'd ever felt. Joss looked at him and smiled a bit, trying to touch him again, but oh no, he couldn't handle anymore of that shit tonight. He pinned her hands down to the bed, and she just smiled at him more, making him do the same. "But you have no idea how long I've been dreaming about doing that to you!"

Why was it so strange to know, or to think, that Joss fantasized about him, that she thought of him as a sex object at times, the same way he did her…wow…okay, he knew she got something out of fucking him, he'd always kind of made sure she did, though he never understood why he did, but…wow again…Tig had never fathomed that Joss, sweet, perfect Joss, wanted him that much! Damn! Fuck! No one had an old lady like her, no one…not even Clay! He wanted to speak, but wasn't sure what he even wanted to say, and then he just kissed her, able to communicate better that way, his tongue twisted around hers, hardly balking at the remnant taste of his semen in her mouth, which he normally objected to so much that he didn't even like a woman to lean close to him after she sucked him off, but now, it just burned through him like a brand of how much his woman loved to suck his big dick. He ended the kiss slowly, so near exhaustion now, but there were a lot of things swirling around inside him that wouldn't let him pass out, just like he usually did after a decent blow job…but that had been more than decent…that had been…like…better than porn movie good! The way to a man's heart definitely wasn't through his stomach! "Joss," he said, before he even realized what else he was going to say after her name, and now he was just looking down at her like an idiot…

But she smiled up at him, laughed a little as he pinned her down still. "I know," she said. "I know…"


	25. The Long Goodbye

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 25

God damn this was harder than it had ever been before! There was hardly anything that Tig wouldn't have given to be able to throw Joss on the back of his bike and take her with him, but no, this wasn't that kind of a run; she could only ride with him when it was some fucking charity thing, or just out with the club, terrorizing the highways. But this was business, and it could get ugly, and he wasn't about to put her anywhere she could get hurt, even if Clay would have allowed her to come along. Nope, he had to go, and she had to stay…and just why the fuck was this so fucking hard? They'd been apart before…a lot…they'd spent more time apart than they had spent together, and he used to like being apart! Shit…this was way more than drugs could handle…he needed an exorcist or something!

He sat on his bike, Joss next to him, both of them watching everyone else's preparations, putting on cuts, giving bikes a once over, snapping on helmets…fucking helmets…but that was an entirely different complaint of his. It was him, Clay, Bobby, Jax and Opie rolling down to Indio, momentarily delayed by Clay's bike not having proper pressure in the rear tire for such a long haul, and Jax and his doctor bitch had taken that opportunity to get all kissy again…disgusting shit…Tig hated seeing that, who wanted to see that?

He turned to Joss, who was doing her best to be strong…they hadn't discussed what it would be like to be apart like this…and she was feeling it now…really feeling it. So was he, but then how could anyone blame him for that given what the night before had been like? Fuck, he didn't want to leave her! He wanted to just lay in bed with her this morning…it was Saturday, he didn't have to work, they could've stayed locked in their room all day, her fingers touching parts of him that he forgot he had, and just re-write the book on what he'd decided was pleasure, and the pursuit of it…Joss wanted him, his cock, his chest, his body, she didn't fuck him just because she had to. It was such a strange concept, but one Tig was so eager to explore further now that he realized it. Shit, all this time, he really thought he'd been…"inflicting" himself on her, and she just got into it because she really didn't have any other choice. But nope…Joss wanted him…and it wasn't about killing anyone for her now, it wasn't about being some kind of safe harbor for her…it was about him as her lov—Whoa, back the fuck up! He wasn't anyone's lover! Was he? Nope…lovers embraced, wrapped their arms around each other and held one another tightly…they called out stupid fucking romantic shit to each other like "I'll love you 'til the cows come back to Capistrano…" while they were making it… and there was usually some kind of…rolling around on the sheets bit that he vaguely remembered…or had seen in movies…and he didn't do any of that shit! He took a deep breath…okay…that was close. What? Why the fuck were cows going to Capistrano? He'd fucked that one up somehow. Oh well, not important.

"Joss," this was obviously going to be awhile, Clay was still fumbling with the valve on the air pump, Tig grimacing a bit as he watched, afraid for the fate of Clay's arthritic hands, then grimaced again when he saw Jax and his doctor bitch still swapping spit…they were lovers, they probably did all that rolling around on the bed, "love you 'til the cows…" did whatever the fucking cows were supposed to do, kind of shit. What the hell…was this Oregon all over again? Why was he so obsessed with cows? Tig shook his head, but then looked at his sweet, dark, perfect little seraph, who stood there quietly beside him, her hands behind her back to no doubt keep herself from clinging to him, her pretty green eyes, so piercing with that lovely black liner, were looking down, hiding so much that Tig could feel despite her efforts; she didn't want him to go. "You okay?"

She nodded, but didn't look up. "Yeah."

"Joss?" He said again, chuckling a little bit as he did, knowing she was lying for his own sake, and he shouldn't have done it, but he reached out and took her under the chin, lifting her eyes up to his.

She sighed, her eyes watery. "No!" she half moaned, her voice failing her before she could even get the whole word out.

Tig felt himself swallow hard, took off his helmet because it seemed like it might prolong this delay in departing even more…somehow. "C'mon baby, you know I always come back to you." Did he just say that? Damn it! Why couldn't he just let sniffling, sad faced dogs lie? Fuck…this all sucked! Not just the distance this run was going to cover and the fact that it wouldn't be done until it was done, but all of this…stuff…between he and Joss…Jesus Christ, he was excited because she wanted him sexually? Why did he care about that? Hell, dead women had been "attractive" because they didn't want/touch/move/talk or even know he was there! It didn't matter to him who wanted him, or how; it only mattered what he got from them…and now he was sitting there thinking about how great it would have been to just stay in bed with her all day! Shit…and if only that were it…it wasn't, he had a house now, a fucking house! And a fucking old lady, living in the fucking house, with him! And she…touched him…and he liked it…God damn it…this was like stepping in dog shit, and that shit was getting everywhere he went, and everyone could smell it, wouldn't be long now before they were coming up to him going, "Hey, you've got lov—shit, on your boot!"

But one heavy sigh from Joss and flick of her black eyelashes as she batted away a tear, and he was helplessly back with her…for at least a little while longer. "I know," she said, nodding emphatically like she was trying to convince herself now. "I'll miss you though," she said to him, looking away again, clearly not sure about how that comment would be received.

Tig closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head, not liking that she'd gone and said that…was she trying to make this worse? "I know," he said, but then took her hand, swallowed hard again and decided they'd better talk about something else now. "Look, everything I told you, you do it, got it? Anything happens that you need help with, Gemma's in charge, okay?" Joss nodded, looking back at him, paying absolute attention to something that Tig already knew she was going to remember him saying for the rest of her life anyway. "You can't get Gemma, you get Happy; I asked him to check up on you, he'll be there for you, and he'll be taking you back home for me." Tig looked up, meaning to indicate who Happy was, even though he knew Joss knew him, but Happy wasn't standing where he had been just a few minutes ago. Tig scowled a little at the spot Happy had been, where the fuck had he gone…oh shit…oh no…what was happening to this club? There was Happy, who wasn't even about to roll out of here on the Indio run, in the arms of a girl Tig remembered seeing him talking to at last night's party. Damn! Jax and his doctor bitch on one side of him, and Happy and that girl on the other…there really was shit everywhere…everyone was stepping in it! "Hey!" Tig yelled at Happy, sounding almost insulted as he stood up on the foot pegs of his bike and waved a middle finger at him, Happy smiling and returning the salute, but not leaving the backpack like hold the arms of that girl had on him. "Fuck!" Tig groaned, not really to Joss, but she was there to hear him. "I think he's serious about that girl!"

Joss shrugged, but looked over at what Tig was objecting to. She smiled some now, looked back at him. "Well, I guess it happens to the best of you."

Tig hadn't even really heard what she'd said; he just kept watching Happy and that…girl…touching each other, hugging, kissing, smiling, laughing…and all out in the open like that? Really? Happy? His boy? Happy's fingers brushed through the girl's hair now, then traced the shape of her cheek, and he kissed her again…oh c'mon…not Happy too! "Lauren!" Tig suddenly blurted out, so troubled by what he was watching. "Why in hell do I remember that? Fuck, he IS serious about that girl!" He turned back to Joss, like he wanted her to say it wasn't so, then immediately began to argue with her before she even said anything. "No, if I remember that girl's name, it's because he's been fucking saying it A LOT…He's fucking serious about her!"

"Tig?" Joss looked at him strangely now, laughing a little, but there was something that was bothering her about his reaction…but why? Oh shit!

"No no no, baby, it's not like that," he immediately started to explain. "Me and her? No, never…well, maybe…I can't remember," he admitted, but then looked up at her, taking her by the chin again and making sure her eyes were on his, knowing he better explain this one as plainly as he could. "There's only one you, Joss. That's what I'm saying." He told her, paused a moment deepened his gaze. "I can't think of you being anything other than mine."

Chapter 25; Part 2

Joss tried not to smile too much, knew not to give away how happy and how unique Tig had just made her feel, but oh God, it was just what she'd needed to hear him say in the moments before he left her! He hadn't planned it of course, but on some level Tig what to say to her and when to say it though, because seconds after saying it he'd hooked his arm around her hips and pulled her as much against him as he could get her while he sat on his bike…his arm then sinking lower until it was around her ass, just to keep this from looking too respectful. Bobby and Jax were over lending Clay a hand with the air now; Tig wouldn't hold her like this for very much longer. But at least she wasn't on the verge of tears anymore; Tig only had one old lady, he'd only given his patch to one girl; what happened on a run was just that, Joss knew not to expect Tig to stop being Tig, but it would be okay; he'd been quick to put right what he'd meant about the girl Happy seemed to be with, acknowledging that Joss was the only one who was special to him, but he hadn't just acknowledged it to her, he'd acknowledged it to himself…and the best part was, Joss hadn't been that concerned about "Lauren!" She'd only been curious to see what Tig's answer would be if she implied something about what he was protesting and why…and he'd more than made her day with his answer! Playing him like that was maybe a little bit evil…but he was leaving her for however long…she had to be forgiven for wanting some kind of…something, to remember him saying to her as he rode off. Okay, she better stop looking at him all dreamy eyed like she was…because Tig was beginning to look at her the same way, and once he realized it, it would really fuck him up.

"I hope you got enough sleep last night, Indio's a long way away," Joss said, and couldn't help but smile devilishly as she did, both her hands resting safely on Tig's knee, not threatening to wrap him up in something he'd treat like an anaconda trying to swallow him whole.

Tig smiled back at her and groaned a little bit, giving her a slap on the ass, but stopping before he got too into it all. "I got meth." He answered, with a casual shrug of his shoulders, and Joss wasn't surprised; meth had been the most cooked drug in any MC, a few hits and the entire club could drive for days without needing to sleep.

"Good," she nodded, and then started to laugh, imagining if this conversation were being had by Jax and Tara, instead of her and Tig. She loved Tara, she truly did, but if Jax remarked that he had meth in so matter a fact of way, Tara would have had a shit fit. No, Jax and Tara would never understand her and Tig.

Tig looked at Joss like he wanted to know what was so funny. "Are you laughing at me just before I have to leave you, not knowing when we'll be together again?" He asked, and for a moment it made pain erupt deep inside her heart, until she realized Tig was smirking at her. "This is how you send me off into battle?"

"Tig!" She huffed and made a fist and pounded him lightly on the knee, but then laughed, wanting to say something about how she was saving the best stuff for when she got to welcome him home again, but Clay was now on his bike, starting his Dyna up and then gave a yell to everyone that they were about to roll onto Indio. Joss sighed, this had come up so quickly, and out of nowhere it seemed. What to say now? Her smile was fading little by little; Tig was only seconds away from being gone.

"Hey," he said, shaking his head again, revving his throttle with one hand and cupping her cheek with the other. "C'mon, I got a lotta miles to cover out there, don't make me do 'em all thinking about how I left you standing here crying."

He was right, and Clay was coming up behind them both on his bike, Tig's assigned post immediately to his right, he had to go, there was a formation to be maintained. Joss sighed, but quickly smiled, "I love you!" she said to him over the din of the Harley's dual cam, and her words motivated her smile to be even brighter.

Tig snapped his helmet closed, slid his sunglasses on, giving Clay a nod as he rode passed then quickly looked at Joss, put his hand on the back of her head, pulled her down and kissed her, his tongue just barely touching hers before he flipped the kickstand up and took his feet from the ground. "I know," he said to her. "That's what makes you mine!" And then he rode off, falling in behind Clay without another word…but Joss could see him looking at her in rearview. She waved, still smiling for him, but the further away he got, the more it faded.

The rest of the bikes roared passed her, first Jax, then Bobby, Joss feeling like she was going to cry again and trying to make herself stop. She had to ride home with Happy, and she wouldn't embarrass Tig by sobbing all over the back of Happy's cut. She looked up, hoping to keep the tears forming in her eyes from rolling downwards, only she'd managed to look directly at Opie as he drove passed. He looked like the monster in the Frankenstein movies, his face held together by a big, winding bunch of sutures that looked like some kind of snake tattoo, and his eye was swollen shut. Joss began to wonder how was he going to make it to Indio, and almost in response to that thought, Opie looked at her, gave her some kind of nod, then made a fist with his right hand and double tapped his chest, over his heart, and then drove passed, saying nothing. Her blood turned to ice; this wasn't over.


	26. Long Day's Journey

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 26

"Is everything okay with you?" Gemma asked, looking at Joss from across the long dining room table where she and Tara all sat together, drinking coffee and playing a half serious game of poker for M&M's, Star Bursts and mini MilkyWays.

She shrugged, knew she had to answer Gemma before Gemma knew she wasn't completely okay. "I miss Tig," she said, and she did…oh God did she miss Tig! And he'd only been gone for about ten hours! How was she going to last until he returned? How was she going to sleep tonight without anyone next to her complaining, "C'mon, roll over, I hate it when you look at me while you're sleeping!" or deciding that he wanted something slightly more intimate than just laying next to her, but not too intimate, and grabbing her ankle and bending her leg up behind her, her heel against her buttocks as he awkwardly held her foot in his hand, then fell peacefully asleep. It was ridiculous, but it was Tig, and she didn't know what life was without it or him anymore.

Gemma smiled dryly as Tara arched an eyebrow and arranged her cards. "Oh honey," Gemma smirked. "Trust me, there's going to come a day when he's going to leave on a run, and that run won't seem long enough!" She laughed.

Joss nodded, unwrapped a MilkyWay and dropped it into her coffee. "So, what do I do until that day?"

"This." Tara smiled, looking a little sad herself as she glanced around at the candy, the cards and the three of them. "We're here for each other, Joss. That's how it works."

"And," Gemma sighed, looking over her own cards. "When they come back, I expect both of you and yours to be sitting down to dinner at this table with me and mine, too."

"Really?" Joss asked, not that she didn't believe Gemma, but she just couldn't quite imagine she and Tig sitting down to dinner with Tara and Jax…Jax and Tig were so far apart on the spectrum of…everything, and Tara just wasn't sure about Tig. She never said it, but she never had to.

But Tara was nodding about dinner. "Yeah, it's kind of a 'family tradition' I guess you'd say." She smiled. "Usually it's only me, Gemma, Jax, Clay and the baby, but Gemma's right, you and Tig should be there."

"Oh," Joss couldn't help but smile now, even though she could just see Tig sitting here at this table beside her, like a lion on a leash, making Tara uncomfortable and making faces at whatever Jax said. "That's something to look forward to! Thank you, Gemma!"

"Don't mention it," she smiled, "Just make sure Tigger wears pants," she smirked, looking at her cards again and then scowling. "Okay, look, since we're all family, I'm just going to be straight up with you; my hand sucks, but I really want a MilkyWay!" Gemma laughed, then took one from the pile in front of an empty chair that was the "dealer." Tara and Joss laughed, but then the sound of Gemma's cellphone quieted them down, Gemma looking on both sides of her but not finding it. "Now where the hell'd I leave my damn phone?"

"You had it in the kitchen, when you were getting the coffee." Said Tara and Gemma got to her feet, remembering immediately, and disappearing into the kitchen. "It's Clay," Tara knowingly said to Joss. "Letting her know that the guys made it to Indio."

Joss sighed, relief and a stronger feeling of separation anxiety clashing inside her. "Good, I was hoping Tig would call or something to let me know he made it without any problems on that long drive."

Just then Gemma was yelling from the kitchen as she spoke to Clay. "Girls, no trouble getting to Indio, and both your boys say 'hi.'"

Tara and Joss both smiled, yelling their "hellos" back via Gemma, but Joss couldn't help but feel a little bit sad; it would have been nice to talk Tig…but he was likely busy, she understood. But she missed him…and then there was that other thing, that was just plain eating at her, but she knew she couldn't talk about that, no matter how much "family" she had here at this table. All night long she'd been remembering how Opie had nodded at her then thumped his chest twice with his fist as he'd passed her. The gesture had obviously been for her, but what did it mean? And what did she tell Tig? Tig had already done more than what was really necessary to put Opie down for the whole ordeal in the office of the garage, and she thought it was over…so why wasn't it? Reporting this fist to chest thing to Tig wasn't going to end well, and that in turn could possibly not end well for Tig himself. Clay had been majorly pissed that Tig went after a brother like that when Opie hadn't made threats to hurt her, or actually had hurt her, or held her down and had his way with her, or even tried to. But Joss knew Tig; if she told him that Opie was still…doing whatever he was doing, Tig wouldn't stop if he got his hands on Opie a second time…and if Tig killed Opie, in what would be "cold blood" in the eyes of the club, then her man would be tried and punished by SAMCRO, and there were only two possible sentences: death, or being ousted. The first one would kill him immediately, but the second would kill him too…just a lot slower and much more painfully. She couldn't lose Tig, she'd waited so long to be with him, and she was so happy, though things were far from perfect, or even normal; she loved Tig, he was every breath she drew.

And again Joss found herself going around and around in the same confused circle…what if that whole thing Opie did was nothing? But if it was nothing, then why'd he do it? Maybe Opie was sorry for causing the trouble for her that he had at Friday night's party; maybe he was defiantly showing her that he wasn't? Maybe he was just trying to tell her that he was okay, despite Tig's beating, so she didn't have to feel guilty? But why did Opie care if she felt guilty? He didn't even know her. Or was it something more literal that Joss was too afraid to think about…he'd touched his heart…no…no…

"Joss," Tara's voice startled her back to here and now. "Are you okay? I mean you really did just space out there for a second."

"Oh yeah," Joss quickly kicked herself in the ass and tried to seem untroubled, but she knew she couldn't really pull that off, and she did miss Tig…oh God, when was he coming home? "It's just…I wish Tig had called instead of sending a message through Clay like that." That wasn't it completely, she did understand that her man was likely in charge of something, and he only had time to ask Clay to rely his message to her…Jax hadn't called Tara either, so she knew it was just "work."

Tara smiled again, but had a funny look on her face. "You really love him, don't you?"

Joss laughed that time; yeah, poor Tara, she'd never understand. "Well," Joss sighed, "To know Tig is to love Tig."

Tara laughed a bit herself then abruptly stopped, maybe feeling that she'd stepped over some line a little too much. "I just don't know how you do it," she said, shaking her head, and stealing a MilkyWay herself. "I mean, I think it's great that you can, you both seem to get along really well, but…how do you do it?"

Hmm…how did she do it? It was never something Joss had to think about, she just did it, and in some fucked up way, it worked. But, she should probably give Tara some kind of answer, because she had a sneaking suspicion that both Tara and Jax had visions of Joss spending every night chained to a wall in the basement and tortured into being something that Tig could live with. "I don't know, I mean, how do any of us do it?" she asked, taking a drink of her coffee, the MilkyWay thoroughly dissolved and tasting so good…maybe Tig would like his coffee this way in the mornings…hmm…maybe not. "He's Tig, and I just let him be Tig."

"Yeah, but at the same time he's—" Tara went quiet the moment she realized what she'd almost said, but Joss started to laugh, knowing what Tara was going to say, and what she meant. Tara laughed a little as well, and then finished her sentence. "Tig."

"Tara," Joss said, collecting herself and hoping what she was about to say might help her friend be a little more at ease around her man. "What you really need to grasp about Tig is that, despite being a lot of oddball things…a lot of oddball things, he treats people the way they treat themselves." She glanced towards Gemma, who was still on the phone with Clay in the kitchen. "If you have respect for yourself, and feel empowered and have presence, then that's what he'll respect you as." She looked back at Tara. "But if your strength is in trying to hide yourself from him, or telling yourself to be afraid of him, then he's just going to keep being scary." Joss sighed, reached for another MilkyWay herself, hoping she hadn't sounded too much like a therapist. "I'm not saying he's a prince, not by a long shot," she admitted. "But that is one of the most decent qualities he has, and it's one of the main reasons I love him."

Chapter 26; Part 2

It was after two in the morning; Joss lay wide awake in bed on her back, her head directly against the mattress, all the pillows aligned next to her where Tig usually slept, mimicking the form of his body. But the pillows didn't complain when she tossed and turned and ended up right up against them, the pillows didn't reach across unexpectedly in the middle of the night and start groping her crotch either. They just lay there, like Tig did sometimes, only he would usually be laying there, staring eerily up at the ceiling. Joss sighed…she wasn't going to sleep until Tig came back…which was odd, given how difficult it was to sleep when he was laying over there where those pillows were stacked. She really should just get up, go downstairs and watch some TV, maybe she'd fall asleep on the couch? But she was so afraid that if she left the bedroom, this room where she couldn't belong more to Tig than she did, her defense against worrying herself over Opie's gesture would crumble. And so she remained laying awake in the dark…telling herself that she wasn't going to get up and go over to the dresser and smell all of Tig's clothes again. What was she? A puppy?

And then a cricket chirped beside her. Joss smiled, sat up and grabbed her cellphone; she had a text message, from Tig! She flipped her phone open, more excited than a kid handed a Christmas present, pressing the "select" button and trembled with anticipation over what he may have said to her as the phone did its thing to display the message. It was only a second or two, but Joss's heart was pounding so much that it made it seem like forever. And then finally, there it was; Tig's text.

"Hey"

She liked to think that a lesser woman would have been disappointed, who sent a text message after two in the morning that just said, "Hey?" But Joss was laughing out loud, hurriedly texting him back…"Hey."

In no time he answered…it was so exciting for some reason…Tig, "typing" to her from four hundred eighty miles away…and then she realized, he'd never texted her before! She pressed "select" again, his reply appearing:

"u r still awake?"

"No-sleep texting U."

"wtf? u ok?"

"Yes!LOL But I miss U!"

"I know."

"Call. Please?"

"Can't."

"Why?"

"Can't tell u"

Joss rolled her eyes, she'd wanted to hear his voice so much, but at least there was hope that if Tig and the guys were at work so quickly, maybe they'd finish up and be heading home soon. "Sorry 2 ask"

"np—wish I was with u"

"Me 2" there were tears in her eyes; she hadn't expected that…she'd save that text forever!

"U luv me?"

She sighed…no, she swooned. "More than I can say here."

":-)"

And now Joss cackled with laughter, a smiley face? From Tig? "U R funny."

"u can go 2 sleep ok now?"

"No—U R not here."

"Restless hearts sleep alone 2nite"

"What?" Really, did someone take the phone away from him? That didn't sound like her Tig.

"Right down the line it's been u n me"

"Tig?"

"Being apart ain't ez on this…this affair"

Wait a minute…this was familiar…his Journey CD! He was texting her the lyrics from "Faithfully!" Again, Joss burst out laughing, bouncing on the bed as she sat upon it; Tig…he was so…Tig! "2 strangers learn 2 fall in 'this' again?"

"I get the joy of rediscovering u, oh girl, u stand by me…..u know the next part"

Joss was laughing hysterically now, particularly at what Tig wouldn't say, not even in a text message. "Yeah—2 u 2!"

":-)"

Again Joss laughed. Wow, a two smiley night! But before she could even think of a reply, the cricket chirped again with another message from Tig, this one reading: "oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh, oh oh oh oh oh oh" And just when Joss didn't think she could laugh any harder, she was. Who else but Tig would text her amended lyrics to a love song, including Steve Perry's crooning coda, that fell a little flat in a text message? Tig! Her Tig! "Faithfully!" she replied, and wiped at a tear in her eye, not brought on by laughter alone.


	27. Tijo

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 27

Five days, four nights, and now it was all finally coming to an end. Joss could hear the roar of the bikes as they turned the corner about a mile away, now heading towards the clubhouse, and Tig's bike was among them! She'd passed her days exploring the woods around their home, astounded by the number of squirrels who chattered at her and ran up the trees, dancing franticly on the roof of the house as they watched her; gray squirrels and fox squirrels, that Joss had started putting peanuts and hazelnuts outside in a little trough for. She watched them every morning, just like the raccoons that came to visit her on the patio outside the sliding glass door each evening, only the raccoons showed a partiality for animal crackers, which they washed in little dishes of water Joss had set out for them as well, having read once that raccoons liked to do that with their food. And the woods were alive with snakes! It was a good thing she wasn't afraid of them, because she generally stumbled across one per each walk, brown blotched and spotted Gopher Snakes with thick, cream colored bodies, California King Snakes with shining black scales, banded with white. She'd even seen a Western Rattlesnake, tightly coiled and hissing up at her. She'd thought it was a Gopher Snake at first, the pattern and colors on the scales had been similar, but its diamond shaped head quickly distinguished it from the harmless Gopher Snake, as did its aggressive attitude. From then on Joss was more aware of where she put her foot while walking through the woods. Tig had said he'd found several snakeskins in the basement when he'd been working on the house, and Joss was now acquainted with their owners.

She'd bought a book on backyard wildlife one day that she and Gemma went out to lunch, and though she missed Tig, and worried about the whole Opie thing…and then missed Tig some more, guiding her own nature tour of where she lived had become something she enjoyed, as well as being a welcomed distraction. She missed Tig so much, but when he was home, Joss had no time to notice any of the squirrels, or the raccoons, or the snakes. Tig was kind of like a cat, he was too cool to be loved on, and kind of aloof, but the moment something that wasn't him had her full attention, there he was, doing the Tig equivalent of climbing the drapes, or sneaking under the newspaper she was reading, his fuzzy face suddenly blocking what she read. Well, maybe he wasn't exactly like that…but his face was fuzzy, she had to admit. Tig…she could hear the engine of his bike; he was so close now compared to where he'd been, but until he was in front of her, semi-in her arms and reminding her about the "elbow zone," he was still too far away. Her world was Tig…and while she loved the flora and fauna around the house, she wanted that world back!

Her nights were spent usually at Gemma's house, ordering out for dinner and either playing cards or watching a movie with Gemma and Tara. Joss envied Gemma so much, she'd been through these runs with Clay for so long now that it didn't bother her, or make her feel so desperate when she was without him. Of course Gemma loved Clay, but that love had been tried, tested and tempered; Gemma missed Clay too, but they were like…like the compass in that Renaissance poet, John Donne's, poem…"And though it in the centre sit, yet, when the other far doth roam, it leans, and hearkens after it, and grows erect, as that comes home." It was the perfect description of Gemma and Clay…Gemma the spiked foot of the tool Joss had used when she was about seven years old, drawing perfect circles in those high school geometry courses homeschooled to her by the tutor her father hired. Gemma stayed central, pinned to Charming, while Clay, like the end of the compass with the pencil on it, was always moving around Gemma, who stayed in the center…but they were always part of the same tool, the same tool that was held straighter and straighter the smaller the circle being drawn was, and the closer the pencil was to the spiked foot. One day, Joss knew she'd have that kind of poise too; she and Tig, in their own way, would be exactly that, a compass, she knew they would, but even Gemma had agreed that getting there wasn't easy.

But now, Joss's end of the compass with the pencil was drawing nearer to her…and likely growing more erect, too! She smiled, even laughed a little, making Juice look strangely at her as he too waited for the arrival of his brothers. Clay was calling an emergency meeting to discuss the whole ATF thing as soon as he, Jax, Bobby, Opie and Tig had returned, and all members were expected to attend. Tig had managed to call or text her at least once every day he'd been gone, the conversations were generally brief, he was busy, but his final phone call this morning had promised he'd be with her tonight, and expected to be rolling into Charming by no later than five o'clock. But, he didn't know she'd be here at the clubhouse waiting for him; Joss hoped he wouldn't mind…but then, after that Journey text, the one that must have made Tig feel secure in saying what he meant, because he was using someone else's words, and was far enough away that Joss couldn't touch him...no, he wouldn't mind that she was here waiting for him.

"Bet Tig'll be glad to see you!" Juice said to her, still looking at the way she was smiling, as if he suspected she were sharing a joke with herself…but then, she was.

She looked back at Juice, smiling at him now, just not able to make that smile go away. "Thanks," she answered, because it was safe to talk to Juice, Tig wouldn't mind small talk between them, he was nothing like Opie…whatever was with Opie. She just had to keep it centered around her man, it showed that she was his. "I'll be really glad to see him too!"

"Yeah, I bet! It's really great about you two." Juice smiled, and Joss knew she could trust that what Juice said was what he also meant. It was so good to know that she and Tig, her as his property, had the support of the club as much as it did. It was like everyone had been waiting for the right someone to come along and mellow Tig out. But, Joss loved him the way he was, she had no plans to mellow him out. "Hey, are those the new Vada boots from Harley?" Juice asked, looking down at the black motorcycle boots with the silver studded faux spur straps and side zippers that Joss wore.

She nodded her head, pulling up the pants leg of her contour fitted, low rise jeans to show Juice the entire boot. "Yeah, and the jeans are Harley Davidson too!" She smiled proudly. She'd been saving this outfit for the next big party, but hell, Tig coming home was more than a special enough occasion. She'd thrown on a black camisole bra, her patch, and the jeans and boots to welcome him back, not forgetting her little black leather collar, the one with the silver heart on it that bore his name with an apostrophe "S."

"Oh, that is sweet!" Said Juice, checking out her clothes without making Joss feel like he was checking her out…or tapping his chest with his fist…"I gotta get my lady some of those!"

"You have a lady?" Joss smiled, Tig was right, it was like their union had inspired everyone around here to fall in love…it must have made it seem easier to do now, because if Tig could do it, why couldn't everyone else? "She wasn't standing on her head in a corner, was she?" She couldn't help but laugh.

"Aww man, not you too!" Juice smiled and sighed, shaking his head and laughing. "And no, she wasn't. I met her outside that new bookstore that opened; she was in there buying all this Shakespeare and had some dark, twisted romance story about a demon gettin' it on with an angel, said she really loves that one. She's not your typical girl." Juice paused and smiled, obviously tickled to death. "She's twenty-three, goes to school, has horses" he said, smiling more and more. "Her name's Lauren."

Joss smiled, happy for him and excited to know that there may soon be someone else who loved horse and equestrian sports as much as she did joining SAMCRO's little fold. Hmm…it was selfish of her, particularly at this point, but maybe Joss could finagle an invitation to ride! It would be so incredible in the saddle again, maybe taking a few fences, or just hacking out to have a good time. Wow, between Happy and Juice, her girlfriend prospects were ever increasing! Wouldn't it be great if everyone could come over for dinner sometime? Clay and Gemma, Jax and Tara, Happy and Lauren, Juice and…Oh God! "Her name's what?"

"Lauren," Juice answered, "Everyone keeps thinking I said 'Laurie' or something, but nope, Lauren's my lady!" He smiled.

Oh God! Poor Juice…he seemed so delighted …would it be wrong to just let him have that for a little bit longer? Yes…Juice sure as hell didn't want to be in it with Happy, that Joss knew for certain. She'd hitched her share of rides with Happy during Tig's absence, and Happy had been more than chivalrous in stopping by the house and making sure she didn't need anything. He'd even come in and stopped the washer from making that high pitched whining sound it made when it reached the spin cycle when Joss had casually mentioned it in conversation. She'd been eager to get to know Lauren, whom Joss had noticed was sitting on the back of Happy's bike during two of his visits, but she and Lauren hadn't spoken yet, just waved and smiled…Tig hadn't said if he wanted her to talk to Lauren yet, but Joss had lived in hope. Tig was taking this Lauren thing like he was mourning the loss of a buddy, but Joss hoped for double dates…well, maybe not really what Tig, or Happy, would refer to them as, but still, having another couple, that Tig liked, to hang out with would be awesome! Tig and Happy were buds, and Joss had no problems with Happy either, he'd been there for her just like Tig had said he'd be, and she'd come to like him quite a lot. But Happy would kill Juice if he found out about this Lauren thing! It was better for both of them if she spoke up now. "Okay," she sighed, turning to Juice, all business now. "Look, I don't know how SAMCRO does this, or if I should even be the one telling you this, but for the last few days, Happy's been with this girl…named Lauren." She frowned as she said it, knowing she was going to break Juice's heart, and he didn't deserve that pain, but it was better she broke his heart than Happy breaking his entire body.

She was shocked to hear Juice laughing. Jesus, had he gone out of his mind that quickly? "I know," he said. "But that's another girl. Happy's Lauren has been hanging around for awhile, my Lauren hasn't hung around yet at all…but she will…she will." He grinned.

"Thank you, God!" Joss sighed, looking upwards, then over at Juice. "Don't scare me like that!" She laughed then heard the roar of dyna's engines getting louder and louder. Tig was now within eye shot, another quarter of a mile, and he was home!

Juice looked off at the same thing Joss did, giving his brothers a nod even though they were still too far out to see it, then looked back at Joss. "Thank you for being scared." He said, "I really like this girl, all she's gotta do is hold my hand and she's got me, you know?" Juice smiled again and shook his head like he couldn't believe how wonderful this feeling was. "I hope we'll be like you and Tig!" At that Joss couldn't help but gasp, and then laugh like Juice had no idea what he was saying; and he didn't! Hmm…if this Lauren only knew what Juice was hoping for! Joss laughed to herself again, but Juice was serious. "No, I mean that you and Tig, you know, you have this thing that just…I don't know how to describe it, you just fit into each other so well that it draws people to you. You're like the celeb couple of SAMCRO!" He laughed. "You're not Tig and Joss, you're Tijo!"

"Wow!" At that Joss smiled, she liked Juice because he was always so positive and genuine, and funny. She laughed, really psyched to see her man now. Tijo…Tig would hate that! But Joss could only laugh when she imagined his reaction, not that she planned to tell him of course. "Thank you, Juice! I hope you and Lauren get to be…Jula?" She smiled then laughed again…did this make Jax and Tara, Jara? And Happy and his Lauren; were they Hala? Ha! If Joss were Bobby's property, then they'd be JoBob! This was fun, she and Juice were still giggling as they thought of more combined names.

"No, my lady and me, we'll be AurenJuice!" He smirked, and then he and Joss both burst out laughing, Juice eventually shrugging then turning to her still smiling. "Hey, thanks for trying to warn me about Happy's Lauren." He said, then reached across and gave her shoulder a friendly shake, kind of like, but less annoying than, how Jax felt it necessary to tell her to "be good" and then rub the top of her head and muss up her straight hair. "You're a pretty cool girl, Joss."

Chapter 27; Part 2

It had been so fucking hard to remain the appropriate safe distance away from Clay's bike on the trip home; Tig finding several times that he'd surged way ahead of Jax, who was beside Tig, and off to Clay's left. He knew his bike could due around one hundred ten when he really pushed it, and the moment they'd torn out of Indio, Tig had wanted to push it.

He missed Joss…and he'd never thought he'd be admitting that to himself, no matter that he might have been feeling it. He'd have been kicking his ass for letting that all get settled inside him, but it hadn't gotten in the way of the task that had been ahead of him in Indio, and so he was able to cut himself some slack for having a weak moment or two…like that text message the first night he was gone; shit, the next morning had all the charm of waking up with a hangover…but did missing Joss, and feeling that he did, really make him weak?

It was strange, and definitely unexpected, but he felt like he was more focused on stealing those guns back, a lot sharper when it came to tailing the ATF, and a lot more ready to rip apart whoever he may need to for the good of the club…and why? Because it all effected Joss and what he had with her; there was no way he was going to go to jail for something now and have to be away from her, there was no way he was going to let anyone or anything threaten the club that housed everything he had with his beautiful, dark, perfect little angel. She and the club were the same things to him, and in defending one, he was defending the other, and no one would take either one from him! God damn…who would have ever thought that having Joss in his life would make him bigger and badder than he'd always been alone?

Normally by the time the clubhouse was insight after a run like this one, all Tig felt was hot, tired, and dusty; all he'd want was a beer, some pussy and then to be left the fuck alone. It was odd to not feel that this time. He was hot, and tired, and dusty, the beer still sounded fantastic, but the pussy…well, that had sort of been qualified to a particular piece of pussy now…pussy that wanted him back! And as for being left the fuck alone…yeah, but alone with Joss! But there was that emergency call to "church" to deal with first…and it was likely to take an hour or two, there was a lot of news to share and a lot plans to be made, but the bottom line was, they were about to set the ATF and the Mayans up together, and get two monkeys off their backs at the same time. But after that, he was homeward bound, and Clay had promised him tomorrow off from work…perfect…he and Joss could get back to what they'd been exploring the night before he left!

Oh hell…he was just too far gone to even try kicking his own ass back to himself again…it was because he was tired, Indio was a long fucking ways away, and he hadn't exactly been laying on the beach with a book while he was there either. Tomorrow, after he was well rested and his strength returned, he'd beat the shit out of himself then for everything he was thinking and feeling now…he promised himself that.

All his charter brothers were waiting at the clubhouse, per Clay's instruction, and as they walked from their bikes towards the clubhouse, Clay was already giving instructions to him, Jax, Bobby and Opie…who had been deathly quiet the whole time they'd been in Indio…go figure.

"Alright, " Clay was saying, turning to look back at the returning entourage. "We've got time to shit, shower and shave, but 'church' is in session in ten minutes."

Tig and the rest nodded, the only thing any of them really interested in being a beer, and they all began to walk passed Clay into the clubhouse, and that's when Tig saw a familiar silhouette leaning against one of the support poles beneath the large overhang. He smiled, that tiredness he was feeling, that he was clinging to feeling, was suddenly gone, and his heart was pounding. He knew immediately it was her, even as he told himself it couldn't have been. He felt himself start to run towards her, in front of everyone, but he'd missed her so God damn much, it didn't matter anymore who saw it. "Joss!" Jesus fucking Christ, she couldn't have looked better, and it had nothing to do with what she had on!

She looked up and smiled, standing straight now and taking a step towards him, but Tig was already there, wrapping her up in his arms and hugging her so tightly that her feet came off the ground as he spun around once with a happy groan. Her body felt so good against his, he buried his face in the smoothness of her long raven hair and breathed in the lilac scent of it, Joss's hands flat against his chest, not a touch he'd have allowed previously, but it was okay now, she liked his chest. Damn, she felt everything he'd been dreaming up for the last four days, but it took until this moment to realize it. "Welcome home!" She murmured as he set her back down, not able complete what she said before Tig kissed her, leaning her back up against the support beam and interlocking his fingers with hers and then grasping at her hips with his fingertips, ensuring that they each felt close to the other, but that there was no way for Joss to forget herself and throw her arms around him in her exuberance.

"How'd you get here?" He asked, nearly out of breath, but closed his eyes and kissed her again, the taste of her mouth like pure honey on his tongue, and she was absolutely straining against him, her mouth and tongue active against his own as she fought the urge to touch him more than he'd allow her to.

"You called," she began to explain as she drew in a sudden breath of air, Tig not having enough yet and leaning more into her form, lowering his head to kiss her neck. "You told me what time you'd be here, and you…" her voice trailed off for a moment as she shuddered at the way he sucked at her white skin and scraped at it with his teeth. "You said to call Happy if I needed anything," her fingers, spliced with his, tightened their grip and then pulled his hands more around her hips to the firmness of her ass. "And I needed you!"

God damn, but she was perfect! Everything he wanted to see, she was. Everything he'd been dreaming of, she was. And everything he could have wanted to hear, she'd said! The drive home was only seven minutes, but there were also the dorms…Fuck! 'Church' in ten minutes! Tig abruptly straightened up, still holding onto Joss, but looking over his shoulder, scouting for Clay, finally picking him out among all the other cuts. "Clay!" he called over to him, getting his attention immediately. This was stupid, and the mark of a man who was helplessly and hopelessly lost to the spell of a woman…but Tig was doing it. "Ten more minutes? She needs me, man!"


	28. Meat

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

_Warning:__ This chapter contains sexual descriptions._

Chapter 28

"So you used to live here?" Joss smiled as both she and Tig lay on their backs, across the full size bed, in what had been his old dorm, the lights off, her stripped down to her half on, half off bra and panties, Tig shirtless, belt still undone, fly open, both of them catching their breath and winding down from the whirlwind fuck that ended only a minute or two ago. It had been fast and hard, which was their signature, but it was also different at the same time. Tig had thrown her over his shoulder and rushed back here with her, tossing her on the bed and getting her clothes off of her as quickly as he could while they kissed each other wildly; Tig's cut and long sleeved black t-shirt being thrown somewhere in the dark along with her own clothes. Once she was sufficiently naked, Tig had stopped, took her hand, and put it over his belt buckle. Joss shivered with how much she wanted him, how much she wanted the big cock that was fighting its way upwards within the denim, and Tig was letting her free it…he'd never done that before, but she didn't hesitate, yanking his belt open, quickly having the button on his jeans undone and the zipper down, reaching inside and grasping the thick rod in her hand, drawing it out and slowly and deftly stroking its length with feather-light fingers. Tig moaned, but it was a growl in no time, and without warning, Joss's ankles were on his shoulders and his hot eight inches was pounding away inside her. It was rushed, but it was no less wonderful, both of them cumming hard against each other in only a matter of minutes, laying here now on his old bed like the clock wasn't ticking closer and closer to 'church.'

"I thought you were going to live here too." Tig said looking over at her and laughing a little, wondering what ever became of his custom drapery.

Joss gave the cramped, cluttered room a once over then looked back at him with raised eyebrows, scowling her disapproval. "Hmmm…I wasn't going to!"

Tig laughed, reaching down and taking her hand in his. "That's what Gemma said; made me buy a fucking house!"

Joss laughed too; Gemma, standing guard like some tribal mother, evaluating the gifts that a prospective son-in-law made in offering of her daughter's hand, always looking out for her, looking out for she and Tig, really; this was a very small room, she and Tig would have killed each other in here as soon as the first disagreement hit. "How dare she!" Joss giggled; lowering her head as she looked at Tig and planting a soft kiss on his tattooed shoulder, but his eyes were on her the whole time, watching her like he was going to tell her to stop at any second. "I'm sorry," she immediately apologized. "Is that okay?"

Tig seemed a bit stiff and uncomfortable, but answered, "I guess."

She smiled, reached down and gently ran her fingertips up his forearm, not passing his elbow. "Then I'll wait until you know."

Tig sighed, his hand slipping from hers as he rubbed his eyes, more hiding from something than anything else, Joss could tell. "It's not always that I don't like something," he started to explain. "It's just that I gotta get used to it."

"I know!" Joss smiled sweetly. "You don't have to say that; I have to get used to it too. We've been going at it here and there for two years, but I'm just now learning what you like, what you want, what you're made of and what works for you." She propped herself up on one elbow as she looked at him, wondering what she could get away with, and let her fingers creep up onto his chest and start to lightly brush through the dark hair. "You're a tough guy to figure out, Trager. You're all raw force and perverse brutality, but I think it's the lightest, gentlest touches that set you off the most." Joss smiled, more than excited that this had been working so well. Tig was very physical, and if they were going to be able to truly communicate with each other, it had to start here. Sex and love couldn't have been anymore opposite for him, but then again, they couldn't have been anymore the same, either.

"It is not!" Tig replied with a load of macho swagger in his voice, obviously not ready to think of himself as the type that melted under a woman's touch.

Joss wanted to laugh, but she dare not. If she treated this like it was some puppy who liked to have his belly rubbed, Tig would back out of the whole thing, but if she made it a challenge…"Ok, maybe I'm wrong then, let's see!" She smiled then let her fingers drift across his chest to one nipple, the tip of her index finger tracing its shape like the brush of a butterfly's wing, Tig trying to hide the groan building in his throat as the rigid peak grew and hardened against the soft pad of Joss's finger. She noticed his eyes had closed as she touched him, taking the opportunity to get up on her knees, lean over him and press the softest of kisses to what she'd awakened, the tip of her tongue flicking lightly over his nipple, barely touching it. Tig's breathing was hard again and his muscles were tensing below her, his back arching towards her tickling tongue, making Joss want to close her mouth over his nipple and suck hard, but before she could take it to that step, Tig quickly rolled on top of her, pinning her hands as his cock grew firmer and firmer between his groin and her belly. Oh God had she missed Tig, missed this, but he wasn't exactly hers at the moment, she was only "borrowing" him. "Tig," she said, but it had been a "don't stop" kind of moan when she'd said it, which was not really what the situation called for…despite how much she wanted him to fuck her again, and despite how much she could feel he wanted to…gossamer touches didn't work for him…right! "Tig, baby, we can't…" but oh God, it felt so good the way he was kissing her neck and rubbing his dick against her skin.

"Hmmm?" He wasn't even really paying attention; it was all physical now, and as much as Joss hated it, there just wasn't enough time for this one to run its 'unnatural' course.

"Tig, baby," she pushed at his chest, making him sit up a bit and look down at her.

"What is it?" He gasped. "You wanna suck on my tits again?"

Hmm, he actually sounded kind of hopeful! Damn it! Why now? Well, this had actually been her fault; she got him going when she knew time had all but ticked away. Joss sighed. "What about 'church'?"

"Fuck!" He obviously had forgotten all about it, his body going momentarily limp above hers when he remembered again, but his strength soon returned and he looked down at her confidently like there was still hope. "It's okay, if Clay's looking for me he'll—" the sound of an agitated fist pounding against the locked door resounded inside the room. Tig sighed and shook his head dejectedly. "…bang on the door."

Chapter 28; Part 2

Tig was honestly starving, what with having forgone anything that wasn't sex all day long; he and Joss making the most of both his homecoming and his day off. Gemma's pot roast had always been good, but nothing could touch the day he and Joss had…they'd been all over the bed, the floor, all over each other, Joss giving him everything and begging him to take it as she did.

There was no part of her body that he hadn't had now; not that he'd exactly left any of her holes un-violated in their passed, but he'd only gone after her ass once way before today, before he'd ever thought about her wearing his patch, and he hadn't even gotten his dick in her enough to even call it a true fuck before she was screaming that it hurt too much, and he hadn't been stingy with showing his frustration as he withdrew his big cock and then fucked the living hell out of her pussy until he'd made her bleed a bit. But today, even though it was obvious that it still hurt her, she'd listened to him and just trusted him through it, and he was unhurried and gentle, so conscious of how endowed he was in such a different way than he always had been, but tempered his gentle actions by yanking a handful of her long, silky black hair crudely as he proceeded, bit her hard on her shoulder, but let it all become something long and slow and hot and tantalizing that was better than what he could have imagined the first time he'd been pursuing her back door years ago.

But it hadn't stopped there, and it was difficult to even determine a "best part," because everything was some kind of highlight that just kept repeating over and over again in his mind, sitting here at Clay and Gemma's dining room table, his eyes on Joss, semi smiling as he remembered how good her legs had felt, clasped firmly around his waist as he fucked her up against the wall in the shower one last time before they left to come over here…twenty minutes late for dinner. Damn that girl…did she know how crazy she made him? But in the best of ways…and yeah, she did…it was in the way she sat across from him now at the table, not looking back at him directly, but extending her leg beneath the table and stroking the back of his calf with the toe of her boot, while she carried on an active conversation with Gemma and Jax's doctor bitch about…silk flowers, or wallpaper borders, or something. He didn't know, wasn't able to pay attention to anything but how surprised he was that Joss could still walk…hell, he was surprised he could still walk! He'd never cared to imagine that a woman might be able to go for as long as he could, or at least, go for it as many times, but Joss…well, he already knew she was perfect, and she just…was. The only downside was that after all the sex today, he could feel that he was so hooked into her that he was never going to be able to get himself untangled. He'd read somewhere years ago this bullshit about how the more orgasms two people had together, the stronger and more bonded they were likely to be…and he was beginning to believe that might be true…God fucking damn it…it wasn't fair!

"This is great, huh?" Clay muttered to Tig and also Jax. Clay headed the table, with Tig to his right, and Jax next to him. On the left side of the table, closest to the kitchen, Gemma was nearest Clay, then Joss across from Tig, Jax's doctor bitch across from Jax, and Abel, in his highchair, was beside her, smashing little cubed up pieces of potatoes on his tray with one gooey finger and making Tig grimace every time he watched him do it. Babies…life-sucking little poop machines…thank God Joss couldn't get pregnant! Clay just rolled his eyes at the chattering girls and sighed to both the men. "We come all the way back home to listen to them go on about how to beautify a bathroom."

Jax nodded, swallowing what was in his mouth, smiling at Abel who pointed at him with a potatoey finger and said something in baby jargon, Jax pointed back at his son then looked over at the women-folk. "Hey, Martha, Martha and Martha…how about something we can all be interested in talking about?"

What? Tig knew he was making a face, because Joss was looking at him like he obviously was, her stare telling him to close his mouth before he even opened it, but c'mon, what kind of way was that to tell them to shut up the fuck up? Well, okay, Tig would never tell Gemma to "shut the fuck up," and he'd never say that to Joss either, unless she was really and purposefully digging into dangerous territory with him for some reason, but Jax's doctor bitch…Oh hell yeah! Jesus Christ, if any bitch was ever more in need of being told "shut the fuck up," it was her! Every time Jax brought her around the club, she just rambled and fidgeted and stared at everyone, observing them like she was taking notes on their behavior, like that dead bitch who went to live with the gorillas in Africa…it made everyone uncomfortable around her, like she was just waiting for the day they'd need her help, and then she could show them how much better than them she was…but it was clearly the way Jax handled her that allowed her to be like that…what a punk ass he was…someone should tell his old lady that she already had a pussy!

The girls didn't even listen to him, not really, hurriedly finished their conversation, instead of cutting it off dead, the way Tig would have demanded, or Clay for that matter, but then they were quiet…for a second…a smirk appearing on the red lips of Tig's sweet, dark, perfect little cherub, who tossed her long, blood red tipped black cascade of hair over her shoulder and flicked her black eyelashes at Jax. "I thought I was Elvira?"

"Elvira, Vampirella…" Jax rolled his eyes. "Whatever, you're it!"

Tig stared hard and sudden at Joss, he knew this was just their little thing they did, but he cocked his head towards Jax just enough to imply that he'd knock his teeth out, here and now, if she wanted him to, but unfortunately Joss subtly shook her head, smirking back at Jax again. "You're just still mad that I beat you in Clay's 'Dawn of the Dead' game."

Tig heard Jax sigh heavily, saw him twist in his seat and then put his elbow on the table and point at her, like he was about to give her the facts of life or some shit. "Jocelyn," he began…Jax called her 'Jocelyn' a lot, because 'Joss' wasn't enough of a real name to him…pussy! "You can't beat me in a game where we are supposed to be on the same team!"

Joss was quiet for a second, moved a carrot around on her plate with her fork like she'd been intellectually cornered and was buying time, but Tig could tell it was all for show. She looked back up at Jax, grinning evilly. "I was the only one left alive at the end!"

"Yeah, Zombie Queen!" Jax about exploded with an annoyed laugh. "Because you shot me!" Joss started to giggle, so did Tig, Jax got so pissed off about the stupidest shit, and he wasn't done spouting off his indignities, either. "Three times you shot me! And always at the same place…I go down that dark hallway, to check the service door, and you walk passed, see me standing there in the shadows, think I'm a zombie, and then shoot me!"

"Well," Joss looked like she may have been genuinely at a loss this time, and maybe even a tinge bit sorry about it too…Tig was beginning to get disappointed in her, but then she saved it all by blurting out, "Why do you keep going down there if you know I'm going to shoot you?"

That was it, Tig and Clay burst out laughing together; damn that girl…she was so fucking perfect! "She's gotta point," Clay guffawed, having to wipe at one eye with his napkin, Jax's exasperated face turning to him, clearly having expected some kind of support from his step-father and president. Clay looked at Jax, shook his head a little, tried to stop laughing. "I'm just sayin'…"

"Alright, that's enough!" Gemma soon took control the whole table, giving Joss a look, but mostly glowering at Clay. "Jesus, and just when I thought it was nice that everyone was together!"

Tig and Clay both had to fight to get it together, Joss slumping in her chair and her face looking down like a scolded child, but she shared a sheepish, impish grin with both of them. "I'm sorry baby," Clay cooed, smiling now at Gemma, leaning over and kissing her cheek. "You know I love ya," he said, then glanced over at his step son. "Jax, you too." Jax gave Clay a nod, but Tig could tell his panties were still sort of in a bunch, but Gemma's mood had lightened, Clay turning back to her. "Do we have anymore butter for the bread, you wonderful thing, you?" And before Gemma answered, Tig noticed Clay glanced at Joss, giving her some kind of…signal.

Gemma sighed, but got up from her chair to go to the kitchen with the butter dish in hand. "Like you need more butter…" she said in her 'I'm still pissed, but not really' tone. "Your bike is going to need extra shocks on it…"

Joss turned her head and watched Gemma disappear into the kitchen, then nodded at Clay, stabbed all of the sliced beef on her plate with her fork as Clay held his plate over to her, and shook them off on to Clay's plate, Clay saying nothing, but put his plate back down in front of him without a word. Tig couldn't sit quietly through that exchange.

He looked questioningly at Joss. "What the hell was that?"

"Shhhh!" She responded, again checking on Gemma's whereabouts. "Gemma doesn't know I'm vegetarian." She explained as Clay was cutting up her share of the pot roast and combining it inconspicuously with what was left of his own. "Clay and I kinda developed a way to make the 'drop' when I was living here."

She was a what? That was like being hit with a brick…Joss, his dark, perfect little angel was a…what? How come he never noticed? Fuck…maybe he did…she always made dinner for him every night when he got home from the garage, and they ate together at the small little kitchen table, and while Tig chowed down on steaks and pork chops and beef stew, Joss was always sitting across from him with a salad, or noodles, or a bunch of pickles and olives…fuck! She hadn't hid it, he'd just never noticed it…she ate, she lived, her body was mind blowing; he didn't worry about what she ate and what she didn't. But now, for some reason knowing this made Tig feel suddenly betrayed. There were no vegetarians in an MC! "No you're not!" his voice a mix of sternness and the want to hear her say it wasn't so. Jesus Christ…and after how awesome the day had been, she had to go and let him find out that about her? Shit, if she was going to do it, did he have to know about it?

Tig then heard Jax laughing in a sickening, satisfied way next to him. "She can be vegetarian if she wants to." He said then looked across the table at Joss, who nodded her agreement; further turning Tig's stomach…weren't those two annoying the shit out of each other just seconds ago? Couldn't they go back to that?

"There's nothing wrong with it," Joss remarked, looking first at Tig, then over to Tara. "Right Tara?"

Jax's doctor bitch actually seemed to hesitate, like for once, she was lost for words. "Actually, Joss…" she paused, like she was about to deliver some horrible news about the dangers of eating vegetables, and she had Tig's full attention, his curiosity about what doctor bitch was about to say running as high as his hopes of a some kind of anti-vegetable statement. "I'm afraid I can't promote a diet that excludes any part of the four basic food groups. It's just not the way our bodies were meant to function." She cringed as she said it, cringing again when Joss looked at her like her heart had been broken. "Sorry." Jax's doctor bitch squeaked, and shrugged, smiling nervously at her.

"No, no," Tig was immediately looking at Jax's doctor bitch, half sighing at her in frustration. "Don't be apologetic about it!" he instructed her, then looked at Joss. "See? And she's a health care professional who just told you you can't do it!"

"I'm a doctor, actually." Came the un-required response from doctor bitch, making Tig have to stop a moment and take a deep breath before he did tell her to "shut the fuck up!" Why couldn't she handle that? Just shut up, let herself be cool in his eyes for just one fucking minute?

"Tara!" Tig heard Jax interject, and then just shake his head at her, and doctor bitch instantly went quiet…way to go, pussy boy…for once he got her to shut up, and a good time to do it too!

Tig sighed, looked at Joss, who was just deflated now, so shocked and alone when she really hadn't expected to be…her best friend had just abandoned her. Yeah, that did have to suck. Fuck! How could he feel sorry for Joss losing her argument, when he was on the opposing side of her vegetarian bullshit? But he couldn't just leave her there, hanging by herself…she looked so sad, her beautiful Nefertiti-styled green eyes downcast and dull. Tig might not have liked the way she ate, but he had to support her. Wait a God damn minute…he HAD to do what? Why the fuck would he support her? He wanted her to eat dead animals, just like normal people…yeah…like he was real fucking normal…but anyway…she was sitting there feeling so deserted and it made him feel so…so…shit…those fucking orgasm bonds!

"Joss," Tig said to her, calming down, though he hadn't actually been angry, just startled…and he hated to be startled…but it wasn't really her fault, it wasn't some ugly truth that she'd been so careful not to let him find out about, she hadn't even lied to him about anything. And she was obviously healthy, and gorgeous, and had the desire and the energy to withstand a day full of fucking and sucking with him. Everyone wanted her, no one could take their eyes off of her when she rode with him, or walked with him, and they were all stunned by her genius abilities…Joss, his sweet, dark, beautiful...vegetarian…perfect, little angel…if this was the price he had to pay for all of that, then maybe it was worth it. "I just don't want to know this, okay? No one knows this but you, and you make sure I don't find out, we good?" Okay, so he was essentially letting her off easy, but that was okay…she'd make it up to him tonight…he'd hit that so hard and so long that she'd be ravenous enough to eat a whole steer in the morning! A whole steer…that's what Jax was…a steer…Moooooooo! Aw fuck, now he was going to be hung up on cows again!

Joss looked across the table at him and was smiling brightly, just for Tig. "Yeah, we're good!" And her foot brushed his leg as the toe of her Harley boot stroked up his calf again, slower and much more sensual this time. Tig felt a slight shiver course through him…and forgot about the cows.

"Wow!" Doctor bitch was speaking again, looking at Joss then Tig in utter disbelief. "That was kind of…amazing."

"Yeah," agreed Clay, who hadn't once stopped eating the beef Joss dumped onto his plate throughout the whole discussion. "And I'm still gettin' extra meat!" He rejoiced demurely, just as Gemma returned to the table, putting butter down in front of him.

"And why would you be getting that?" She asked him, but no one at the table answered.


	29. What's Inside

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

_Warning:__ This chapter contains sexual descriptions._

Chapter 29

Jax and Tara had gone home an hour and a half ago. Joss would have worried that Tig maybe had put Tara off and she wanted to just leave, but then, she and Jax did have the baby to get to bed. Clay and Tig had departed to the back deck, Clay with a cigar and Tig with his cigarettes, a six pack of light beer between them. Light beer had never been a favorite of Tig's but he did have to drive both he and Joss home after all, and she'd been so touched about how mindful of what he drank and took he'd been, without her ever having to bring it up…well, except once, and that didn't really count, because they were already at home…him and the "X" he'd gotten from…whoever. Joss never drank, never got high, but she hadn't said anything the first time Tig had done it, but the second time he'd mentioned doing it again, she'd groaned and then put her foot down.

"Whatdaya mean this doesn't work the way I think it does?" He'd stood there asking her with the baggy in his hand as they argued in the kitchen.

She'd just shook her head and tried not to yell. "I mean I'm not spending another night under the bed with you, hiding from the fairies!"

He'd made a face then looked at her like she held the key to some terrible quandary, a noticeable insecure worry taking him over. "When I said 'fairies,' did I mean the kind that take your teeth when they fall out, or—"

"Boats!" Joss had answered, folding her arms over her chest and glaring at him.

Tig drew back a bit, really caught off guard, and then looked at the baggy full of little tablets like maybe they really were out to get him. "Fuck!" He remarked, then dropped it into the trash, leaving Joss doing her best not to laugh, having made up the whole "boat" part just to really weird him out on the "X" and put him off…it was the ethereal little beasties that had been plaguing Tig that night…and she truly didn't have another flyswatter episode in her every time the wind blew through the trees and the shadows moved on the wall…oh the stories they'd have had to tell their grandchildren…

She was still kind of snickering to herself about that as she and Gemma stood in the kitchen. The boys going off to "play" had left Gemma and Joss with the dishes, but that was okay, Joss didn't mind, it was kind of nostalgic. On nights when Clay would help her, carrying her and her broken leg and fractured foot from the dining room into the kitchen after dinner, and securing her between two kitchen stools, one for her to sit on, and the other to prop her broken leg upon, Joss would dry the dishes that Gemma washed by hand, and then Gemma would put them away. As a result, Joss now knew where every plate, bowl, glass, knife, fork and spoon went in this kitchen…just like she'd grown up in the house. They were about done the dishes now, but it had been a good time to talk, Joss telling Gemma about "Tijo," and Gemma just rolling her eyes, but laughing nonetheless.

Joss wished she could tell Gemma about the day she and Tig had spent together, for she was still buzzing from it, couldn't stop thinking about it for more than a minute or two, and her body still ached pleasantly from Tig's ardor and her own desire for him. But of course she couldn't tell Gemma that…well, maybe she could, but she didn't want to. It was her and Tig's "stuff," and while she was dying to go on and on about how happy she was, and how incredible he was, and how good she felt about being with him today, what they'd been doing was…special. Oh God, Tig would be so pissed if he heard her calling it that…it hadn't been some loving, tender, romantic thing…it was their usual bang this, suck that, drive it deep and push it hard kinda thing, but it had possessed a certain…was "equality" the right word? It felt like it was; Tig was suddenly recognizing her desires for him, what parts of his body she couldn't wait to get her hands on, what she wanted him to do her, what she wanted to do to him…within the confines of Tig's "rules" of course, that was. But it hadn't mattered, she'd never kissed him so much before, and not just his mouth; he'd pretty much conceded his chest to the want of her hands and mouth, which Joss truly had been turned on by…and even now, while stacking plates in Gemma's cabinet, was thinking about how much she wanted to wriggle her fingers through all those dark hairs, stroking his skin and coaxing the muscle beneath it to both tense and relax in response to her touch, then cover every inch of his upper body in long, slow kisses. Tig may not have been huge and ripped, but what he did have was rock solid and all man.

Usually after she and Tig had sex, Joss bore bruises from bites, and sometimes teeth marks as well, and always there were plenty of "hickeys" as they were called…but today, she wasn't the only one covered in the imprints of rough passion. The crescent marks of her fingernails studded his forearms where she'd been allowed to hold him as he made demands of her body to feel such heights of bliss that she'd been certain she'd just explode with it all. She'd left him with three or four little stippled strawberry marks on his collar bone, and chest and even one on of biceps where her kisses had become overzealous attempts to take as much of him as she could and just hold it inside her. But she hadn't gotten away unscathed herself. Her shoulder was seriously bruised from where he'd bitten her as she gave him the last part of her he'd been yet to truly conquer, and Joss never would have figured that particular activity would have left her shoulder sore, of all things. But aside from some more than tolerable discomfort in the expected places, she was fine…better than fine…felt used, by Tig…thoroughly used by Tig. It was damn near spiritual!

He'd put her above him today too, catching her by surprise when he'd suddenly grabbed a handful of her ass and then rolled to his back, his hands immediately on her hips, guiding her in moving so that they never lost their rhythm, his cock pushing upwards inside her, deeper and deeper as her body slid down against his. She'd climaxed in no time, every muscle convulsing above him and around him, feeling her own body gripping and pulling at his deeply rooted cock like the strong strokes of a hand, realizing Tig had been watching her intently as that wave had crashed over her, pulling her down to him and kissing her, hoarsely whispering, "love me like that again," and his finger was soon over her clit, rubbing in a gentle circle that intensified in fury with the way she slowly grew more active and frantic above him as she rode him.

But there was more, so much more, to it than that. Tig identifying and celebrating that Joss had her own desires for his body, that she was a creature even capable of wanting and needing and loving sex as much as he did, brought forth a sense of identity that had surprised Joss. Two years ago, the first time Tig forced her little body to open up for the rough invasion of his substantial cock, he'd given her a sense of her sexuality, but unless she was with him, it had always been muted. But now, today, the melding of their equal desires melted down Joss as the girl Tig fucked, and remolded her as a woman, strong enough to withstand anything she faced…and Tig was most certainly 'anything.'

It had all sent a sudden rush of empowerment shooting through her veins, above her man as he let her use him however she liked, his body so deeply embedded inside hers, that oneness so powerful that Joss had needed to…touch it. Her hand slid down between her beautiful, full white breasts, over her soft, fair skin, through the dark curls that tangled with the ones of Tig's body, slipping easily through her own aroused pink folds, stopping when the base of Tig's big, hard cock split her fingers. She pressed her hand against herself, and against him as well, feeling how his shaft swelled and struggled inside her and how the velvet of her sheath tightly caressed every spasm, her fingers deeply within and against the fissure where his body became hers and her body became his. It was hypnotic, memorizing how their bodies felt while joined together, and she suddenly realized that her hand was no longer alone, but that Tig's fingers now touched the treasure of their physical union along with hers, as spellbound by what he felt as she was, and both of them paying it the ultimate homage and dissolved into the same climax. Hours after, here in the kitchen, the mere memory of it still made Joss shudder and gasp for a breath.

"Ooh, you get a chill?" Asked Gemma, a bit concerned when she'd noticed Joss give a sudden shake. "You're not getting sick on us, are you?" Before Joss could answer, Gemma's hand was cupped to her forehead.

Oh God! Joss couldn't believe that had happened…but damn, did she want to be with Tig right now, glancing out the part of the screen door to the deck that she could see, finding her man as he sat on the steps, his back to her, coolly exhaling smoke and completely unaware of what he was still doing to her…or how much she wanted him to do it again! Oh no…now she'd felt herself flush...Gemma was getting more and more concerned, it was time to explain her way out of this one as delicately as Joss could. "I'm fine, Gemma." She said, putting the last dish in the cabinet. "I just have a…little bit of an allergic reaction to beef, that's all."

Gemma looked at her like she was trying to determine if that was really it, finally shrugging her shoulders. "Huh," she said then returned to the glass she'd been drying, carefully shoving the towel into it and twisting it around clockwise. "Joss,"

"Yeah?" She shook out her dish towel and hung it over the handle to the oven door for it to dry, the way Gemma always did, then stole another glimpse of her man through the screen door…he had a strong back…a very strong back.

"Don't bother with that KY Lube that's supposed to get 'warm on contact,'" Gemma smirked over her shoulder as she put the glass away, smirking more when Joss's hand suddenly flew over her "o" shaped mouth, seconds before she started laughing. Gemma shook her head, still smirking. "I think you two are hot enough already."

Chapter 29; Part 2

Tig heard someone at the screen door behind him, turning to see that it was Joss and not Gemma. He smiled at her, the darker it got outside, the more every thought he had was of her. "You coming outside to play, little girl?" He asked, clearing it with Clay first via a nod from the prez.

"If I'm not interrupting anything important," she answered, but the way she looked at him, Tig didn't care what she interrupted, he just wanted her close to him.

"It's cool," he smiled, and reached up, opening the door. "Get out here."

Clay chuckled a little, the end of his cigar glowing orange as he inhaled its flavor. "Now you see, you can tell you two are still in that 'honeymoon phase,'" he said, taking the cigar out of his mouth and exhaling the dusky smoke. "She still asks if you want her to come out here and sit with you; Gemma makes me come inside with her and then tells me what couch I can sit on."

Tig smiled at Clay's comment, but smiled more up at Joss, whose hands he'd taken as she walked down the steps he sat on, bringing her over in front of him and pulling her down to him. "You're not going to do that to me, are you?"

She looked down at him and smiled like she was trying to reconfigure her answer to that for something appropriate in front of Clay. "It depends on what else I could be doing to you."

Tig said nothing, but raised an eyebrow at her and winked…she was perfect, even if she didn't eat meat…who cared, as long as she was into the 'bone' as much as she was! She was trying to move away and sit beside him, but that was nowhere near good enough. He tightened his hold on her hands, turning her around so her back was towards him and then pushing down on her shoulders so that she'd sit down on the step immediately below the one he sat on, and lean back against him, sitting between his knees. When Joss realized what he wanted, she gave him a surprised look, stalling for a second or two, but he just nodded at her, his eyes on hers; it was okay, there were certain people that he didn't worry about being demonstrative with her in front of, and Clay and Gemma were certainly on the top of that very short list. He laughed though at what she'd said as she settled in against him; her body was just magic when it came in contact with his. "You do have a talent for thinking of shit, that's for sure."

Joss laughed, so did Clay, who looked on sighing a bit. "She wouldn't be worth your spit if she didn't." He said to Tig, then glanced into the kitchen at where Gemma was putting away plastic wrap and tin foil from the "to go" plates she'd made up to send home with Tig and Joss. "You find one like either one we got, you damn sure put your patch on it."

Tig nodded, feeling Joss's cheek lay softly against the inside of his thigh as she smiled over at Clay. Damn that felt good, and she wasn't inching towards his cock or anything, this hardly even looked obscene, but she couldn't have made it more clear that she was his, looked so much like she belonged to him leaning against him like that, and he just wanted to complete the whole feel of that. The day with her had been…well, there weren't really words for it, though Tig had thrown a few at describing it even though they all fell short. But even more than the unbelievable sex was the undeniable evidence of the way Joss trusted him. He hadn't been ready for the way that would fill him up and still linger inside him; yes, he was her keeper, her did own her, she was his property, but it hadn't been brute force that put her where she was, but her complete and utter faith in him that had made her willingly submit herself to him.

Her trust in him was something he couldn't wait to show off, and now was the perfect moment. Both his hands smoothed across Joss's white shoulders, meeting at her neck, where he cupped his palms on either side, his fingers laced loosely with one another below her chin over her throat, and his thumbs touched together beneath the curtain of her long, soft, black hair at the back of her head, caressing her in a soft, gentle stranglehold. Joss, sweet, dark, beautiful Joss sighed happily within his collaring hands, not refusing his tender restraint or becoming uncomfortable the way other women would have…like Jax's doctor bitch, no doubt. Clay looked on at them both and kind of sighed and shook his head like he expected such creepiness to be comfortable between the two of them, but he said nothing, only gave Tig an impressed smile.

"Gemma's patched?" Joss asked, sounding like she was a little embarrassed to be asking, like maybe it was common knowledge for everyone and it was stupid to ask, but her answer came with both Tig and Clay quietly nodding their heads. "So, where is it?"

"It's in the closet," answered Clay, leisurely blowing out smoke again.

But Joss was squinting with her puzzlement. "Why doesn't she wear it?" She asked, and Tig could feel her pulse quicken in her neck, maybe a little disappointed that her heroine didn't play by these rules that were obviously so sacred to Joss.

"She's Gemma," Tig smiled down at her. "That's how she rolls."

Clay nodded and smiled. "I hooked up with that woman a year before we decided to get married, and even after there was a diamond on her finger, all she jabbered about was when was I going to give her a property patch…so finally, the night before the wedding, I go ahead and make a gift of it to her." Clay paused and laughed fondly. "She promptly opened it, held it up, inspected every detail, then looked at me and smiled, then said, 'Thank you! I'm not wearing this.'"

Tig and Clay both laughed, but Joss still seemed to need more closure than that. "But why doesn't she—"

Tig couldn't help but smile even as he quieted Joss with a harmless, quick squeeze of his hands around her throat as she sat there the steps, clutching the long laces at the front of her property patch as if someone were threatening to remove it from her back. She was so damn cute, her patch obviously meant so much to her…fuck, there he went using the word "cute" again! "Gemma's situation was different from yours is." He explained to her, not wanting her to have any inclination that it was wrong to want to wear her patch, or that she shouldn't. "She was widowed, had a kid, lost a kid, and had buried her first patch in the box with John." He said, stroking her behind her ear a little with his thumb as she looked up at him, paying attention to every word. "You just hold what you got and keep working it the way you are, because ain't no one better at it than you are, baby."

Clay was nodding his agreement, but also sighed. "Sometimes I think I shoulda pushed harder for Gemma to wear my patch," he said, then looked particularly at Joss, still held carefully within Tig's loving choke. "And Joss, you never heard me say this!" He insisted, waiting until she nodded to continue, Tig smiling widely at knowing that his girl was caliber enough to be brought into Clay's confidence. "And I don't say that I think I shoulda had Gemma wear the patch for her, or even for me, but for Jax." He said, then sighed again and drank the rest of the beer in his bottle. "That boy grew up without any real 'structure,' as it pertains to this club, and now he's the VP who runs around doing as he pleases, thinking he's smarter than everyone else, trying to re-route the Sons in a direction we were NEVER going…" Clay opened up another beer and took a drink, Tig nodding slowly as he and Joss listened, but then, how many times had he and Clay had this discussion? But now his Joss was privy to it, being made aware of something Clay only discussed with Tig. Clay shook his head sadly. "Nope, I'm afraid I didn't do that boy any favors at all…he, and any other brother who stands with him, crashes and burns, it's all on me."


	30. Good Morning, TellerMorrow Automotive

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 30

"Chibs," Joss was swamped, she'd been running back and forth between the office and the garage itself all day, when she wasn't handling customers coming in to drop off vehicles, or pick them up, and also keep answering the phones, which seemed to do nothing but ring today. The schedule had been unusually busy for a Tuesday; even Tig had to admit that, and just when he'd been counting on watching her work, too. Not that he'd ever say so, but this was kinda fun…well, it was fun yesterday, Joss's first day at Teller-Morrow, when everyone was bored, and he'd been able to show her off to all his envious co-workers and brothers once again, her looks, loyalty and trust in him lit up Tig's world, but she'd also become the darling of the garage in no time flat. There'd been enough time yesterday for the guys to quiz her on wrenches, watch her and Jax annoy each other with the airhose, and then at noon, it was so slow Tig had grabbed her and snuck over to his old dorm in the clubhouse for a horizontal lunch.

But today was quite a different contrast, but Joss was dealing with it like a pro, and Tig was so damn proud of her, despite having no time to show it. She'd likely never had a job before this between daddy's money and running the pageant circuit most of her life…well, actually, she'd had her share of "jobs" in her travels with other clubs, she'd been turned out by a lot of MC's as a lot of things from drug mule to…other things that Tig preferred not to think of, and he had been the one who personally broke the glass window of the booth and pulled her out of that coin operated peepshow in a joint called "Fantazzies" in North Beach…for a dollar a minute you could see a redhead by the name of "Sinful DeeLight" getting naked…but Tig had recognized the face…and knew she wasn't no redhead…he also knew she was just barely seventeen, which he pointed out to the owner, who threw them both out.

But one thing Joss had learned from all she'd been through from beauty pageants to peepshows, she employed working here; look hot, men didn't hang up calendars of beautiful women laying across beautiful cars for no reason, and it brought in customers. There were of course certain areas that Tig demanded she keep covered, she was his after all, but Joss was still working it. Her little outfit yesterday had been something…more than just "something," it was good enough to make Tig have to get her over to his old dorm at lunch! And today it was short shorts and the gray Teller-Morrow garage shirt that Clay had affectionately had made up for her complete with her name, tied just under her magnificent rack, showing more than enough skin to increase business around here. But even in the midst of all this "advertising," Joss always remembered a little 'shout out' to her man, buying a henna tattoo kit Monday night and stenciling T.I.G. onto her belly, in dark blue pigment, right over the splenectomy scar that she abhorred seeing every day. She may have been showing a lot, but everyone who saw it knew that it was his.

She did look amazing, but the day was so out of control it was like she didn't even have time to notice, but the male customers who suddenly needed tune ups and oil changes certainly had, as well as Tig's brothers, but they were mostly impressed by how their little darling of the garage was proving her mettle today. "Chibs!" She yelled again, walking passed the oil change station and into the tire bay, knowing the Scotsmen was in here somewhere.

"Whatja got fer me, Jossy?" Chibs finally answered cheerfully, ducking out from the undercarriage of the Cutlass that was on the lift.

She sighed. "It's not what I have for you, it's more like what I need from you," she said, the word "need" sticking in Tig's ear, making him shut the torch off, stand straight and flip the visor up on his welding helmet, even though he knew there was nothing to worry about between his Joss and Chibs, or anyone else…except maybe for Opie, but he'd taken care of that days ago, and Clay had stepped in as well, putting Opie on repos and tow service all week long. Still, whenever Tig's sweet, dark angel said the word "need" he got all tingly inside now. She looked at Chibs, no fooling around, a stack of repair orders grasped firmly in her hand. "I've got the lady who dropped off the black Chevy Tahoe on the phone," Joss said, flipping through and finding the appropriate paperwork and showing it to Chibs. "You checked 'vacuum hose' on this, so how long is that going to take?" Joss asked then sighed, shaking her head like she was so fed up. Tig couldn't help but smile…she'd really need to de-stress tonight…and he had just the thing for that. "She's got an appointment to get her upper lip waxed at 1:30 and wants to know if she needs to reschedule it."

Chibs cringed at the thought then laughed. "I do'na want to be the reason for all the hairy women in this town," he chuckled, but then looked back at the Cutlass. "But it'll be a good two hours more, this old Ciera's a bitch to get the nuts off of and back on."

"Great!" Joss sighed in pure frustration, looking back towards the office, where that mustachioed woman she'd spoken of waited still on hold.

"I'm sorry, girl." Chibs stood shaking his head, then in a surprising turn of events, looked up at Joss and voluntarily asked, "Yeh wantin' me to talk to her fer yeh?"

Alright…Chibs wasn't trying to get anywhere with Joss, but still, there was chivalry and then there was…chivalry. Tig yanked the welding helmet off, slid out of the protective heavy leather jacket and gloves and began walking over towards Joss and the 'oh so helpful' Chibs. "Joss," he said, immediately getting her attention. "Where's the Tahoe, baby? I'll do it."

To his surprise though, Joss didn't look at all happy about that offer, shaking her head and beginning to flip through the repair orders again. "No!" She said emphatically. "No way, Tig! You aren't done with that exhaust manifold, and if the guy who owns it calls about when it'll be done, I really don't wanna hear what kind of waxing appointment he's missing!"

Tig and Chibs glanced at each other and sniggered together, but Tig's attention never really left Joss. She was up to her lovely ass in alligators today, but damn, she was running this place like it was hers. "Baby, it's a vacuum hose!" He said identifying the obviousness of this situation that Joss failed to understand. "It'll take me fifteen, twenty minutes at the most, then you can call Yosemite Samantha and tell her that her piece of shit's ready."

Joss sighed, looking down at the order for the exhaust manifold that he'd been working on, but then looking back at him, beginning to smile. "Are you sure?"

"Joss, I ever do lie to you, it'll be about better stuff than a vacuum hose." Tig laughed, Chibs joining him again.

"Okay," she finally sighed, flipping back to the paperwork for the Tahoe and scratching out Chibs's initials on the repair order for the hose and replacing them with an AT. "The keys are on the office peg board, the ring has a big pink—"

"Mustache comb?" interrupted Chibs, pretending to comb through his own, cracking Tig up and even making Joss laugh a little now too. Good, she needed to relax a little, but it wasn't long lasted.

"Joss," Happy yelled from just outside the bay door, half way between the office and the garage itself where a big, brown UPS truck had just pulled up. "We gotta delivery of like eleven boxes."

She sighed in exasperation, glancing at Tig a moment, but he knew she wasn't really asking for help, only communicating how inadequate it felt not to be able to be in more than one place at a time. He smiled faintly and proudly back at her, giving her a slight nod of encouragement and praise. She smiled back at him, an "I need you" shining back at him in her tired green eyes…hmm, maybe lunch again? But she quickly turned to Happy. "I really have to track down Bobby about this…this…" she'd found the appropriate repair order, but was squinting at what Bobby had written on it and looking so lost and confused, "Tranny fluids and lube…and I'm not looking forward to the conversation!"

Once more Tig, Chibs and Happy were laughing, so were Jax and Clay, who were in a completely different section of the garage. Joss…poor, sweet, dark, frazzled, automotive parts virgin, Joss…Tig knew she didn't really think what she'd implied, but still, she was so cute when she was stressed out. Fuck, that was the third time he'd used the word "cute," and after not even thinking it for nearly fifteen God damn years! Tig stopped laughing…well, almost, and looked down at Joss and the repair order that had her so perplexed. "Joss," he said, trying to center her in this world that she knew virtually nothing about. "It's transmission fluid lubricant, you'll be okay." He smiled.

"Oh," she replied, not relieved, not surprised, just looking back at Happy and the deliveries again. "Happy, can you sign for the boxes, and then just put them in the office? Just write J T R G R and circle it, so I'll know that it was you signing for me if we need to trace it back for some reason."

Happy nodded, glad to help, but then all at once, everyone in the garage went mysteriously quiet, Happy finally speaking for all of them, pointing at Tig. "Hey! Congratulations, brother!" He smiled at him. "You bust my balls for not telling you about Lauren and you don't mention making it legal?"

What the hell was Happy talking about? But Joss's face suddenly turned even whiter than it normally looked against her black hair, red lips and Egyptian eyeliner. "Oh my God!" She nearly crumbled to the ground, her hand over her mouth as she looked up at Tig with a horrified expression, like she'd just broken some major law of being property. "I am so so so sorry!" She said to him, begging his forgiveness with her beautiful green eyes. "I didn't mean it, Tig, I swear! It's just been so busy and so rushed today…I wasn't thinking and…"

Joss was still uttering some rambling apologetic explanation, but Tig still wasn't entirely sure he understood why, but it seemed to lie in how she'd told Happy to sign her name. J T R G R…J T R G R…fuck! She'd been signing her name as "Jocelyn Trager?" Whoa! Okay, that was a major violation of being property…no woman alleged that she was something to a man that she truly was not…Joss had screwed up on that one…and put them both in an awkward situation, everyone in the garage now looking at him like they wanted to know all the details of something that had never even fucking happened! "Joss…" Tig was shaking his head; waiting for something to ignite inside him that had begun to come to life, but then just sputtered and smothered, DOA. Hmm…he wasn't angry? He wasn't about to lay into her about talking shit about him? He wasn't going to rip her a new one for lying about him? No, he wasn't. What? Why the fuck not? She'd walked right into it; no one would blame him for busting her up! But instead, he was laughing again…which was attracting a lot of attention from everyone in the garage, Jax appearing out of nowhere to stand close enough to Joss to "protect" her from whatever he thought Tig was about to deal out to her.

But Tig wasn't out for vengeance…for some more than disappointing reason. He was laughing, because the whole thing was really fucking funny. Besides, Joss knew she was wrong, that was obvious in the way she'd apologized again and again. Plus, it hadn't been something she'd done on purpose, or even realized she'd done it. If she had done it on purpose, why would she have just blurted it out in front of him and everyone like that? Nope, his beautiful, dark, little angel was having a bad day, and in her moment of turmoil with chaos bearing down on her from every direction she looked, she'd signed his last name behind hers…his name…in her time of need…she'd looked to Tig. How could he be angry about that? Despite how much part of him wanted to be. "Joss," he said again, chuckling warmly now as she stood before him looking down, beginning to sniffle. Okay, time to take charge, get this stopped here and now. Tig stepped closer to her, lifting her chin up and resting his other hand on her waist. "It's okay," he spoke quietly; the rest of the garage by now understanding that there had been no wedding after all. Joss was looking at him, but she was still a mess. "C'mon, stop, don't do all this. Behind your 'J' is not the worst place I've seen my name, baby. Trust me!" He smiled. What? What! What the fuck was he saying? What the fuck was he doing? Jesus fucking Christ, the one for real opportunity he had to smack his bitch around, and he wasn't taking it?

Jax's face was priceless, eyes wide, mouth half open as he looked from Joss to Tig and back again, but he was backing off of the two of them a little bit. Joss seemed to have taken no notice that her would-be big brother had even rushed over to stand guard, she just sighed heavily and looked back at Tig. "But, I think I might have been writing that all morning…"

"So you have an alias now." Tig laughed. "They can be handy." He laughed again, noticing everyone seemed stunned to silence, and it was beginning to get on his nerves…everyone had expected him to beat the living shit out of Joss…but he'd never do that to her, never. "Am I right?" He turned to Happy, Chibs, Jax, and Clay, who all were quick to agree with him, and then slowly returned to whatever it was that they had been working on while a smile finally bent the corners of Joss's once trembling lips.

"Um, the Tahoe," she said, getting back to what she was doing as well…God damn it she was perfect, not lingering on the mercy Tig had just displayed. "The keys have a big, pink carabiner clip on them."

"Yeah!" For a moment Tig had forgotten about the Tahoe with the vacuum hose that he'd said he'd get out of the way in order to make Joss's day a little better. She was doing marvelously, and this one little slip up with his name…it was nothing…even though it could have been. Shit! There was just no way back from this place that she'd lured him to, was there? Tig sighed and gave her a quick kiss, but he'd started to grin at something else he'd just realized. "Hey Joss," he asked as he turned to go get the Tahoe's keys in the office. God damn but they were so fucked up! "What is your last name, anyway?"


	31. Lunch Order

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 31

Joss had always loved riding with Tig. Not only was it the most obvious sign to all that she was his, but it was also the only time that she could put her arms around him, lock her hands together above his waist and lay her head on his back. It was the first touch of physical intimacy they'd ever shared, though one that Tig never once seemed to give any thought to and still didn't. Except that now, every so often, his hand would leave the brake and move back to squeeze her thigh, giving it a pat or rubbing it suggestively. The only thing that came close to a true embrace was shared at sixty miles an hour or more, where it was much more exhilarating anyway, and it was enough for Joss. But that was not the only reason she loved being on the back of Tig's bike.

From the very first time she'd climbed on this bike behind him, to heading home from the garage now, it had always made her feel like she could fly, far away from anything that troubled her. And today had been troubling! She'd been swamped, so many people and so many vehicles and so many repairs and paperwork…but at least the vehicles and the paperwork didn't give her every last "why do I need to know this" type of detail about their life. Is this what Gemma put up with day in and day out? How did she do it? There was nothing about this job that was difficult or even challenging as far as intellect went, but just the managing of…everything…was exhausting. And poor Tara…she'd really picked the wrong time to call today…Joss really did owe her for listening…

"Hey, I was calling to let you know that I picked you up some vitamin B-12," Tara had started to say, "Vegetarians really should take one every day." She concluded, obviously trying to make up for not having Joss's back at dinner a few nights ago, and show her support now, but Joss was so fed up with so many things that Tara's regret and feeling didn't penetrate where it should have. "So, how's it going over there today?"

"How's it going?" Joss had repeated, without even thanking Tara for the vitamins, and her thoughtfulness, something she lamented furiously now as she and Tig drove home. "Fan-fucking-tastic! I've got more cars and trucks and bikes over here for more repairs than there are mechanics, everyone needs theirs back in an hour or less to get to some embarrassing personal appointment, and then I married Tig mid morning, but forgot to tell him about it! I am so lucky I'm not dead right now!"

Yeah…that didn't sound good as it replayed in Joss's head now…she did owe Tara! As soon as Joss's stint in the garage was over, she'd bake her some chocolate cherry brownies or something…as long as Tig didn't eat them. Actually, Joss felt guilty enough that it may have taken more than just chocolate cherry brownies…which she'd just decided to make two batches of, knowing Tig would eat one of them…even though he maintained that he "hated shit like that." Whatever, if he wanted to hate it, and eat it too, that was certainly his prerogative, and far from the weirdest shit he'd ever done, as well.

But what else could Joss do for Tara? The more she thought about it, the more she began to realize that it wasn't actually "guilty" that she was feeling about their phone conversation. She was worried about Tara. Everything had sounded fine with her, and her friend wasn't angry at her for the tirade that had launched after just a simple "how are things," but it worried Joss how she'd had to explain the whole last name mishap to Tara, and even after she had, she could tell Tara still didn't understand what had happened or why Tig's reaction was so…extraordinary. Tara would likely never get Joss and Tig's relationship, and she'd also likely never get Tig either…but this was more than just that. Tara didn't get MC life. So, how could she live it? Joss had seen this a time or two before in other clubs, there was always some member who was recruited out of some professional field to either improve the public image of the club, or just to supply them with something tangible they needed. But even if that one guy worked out well and found a niche in the club life, his old lady, his wife, never ever seemed to make that transition…it lead to a lot of divorces, disappearances…and suicides.

Tig…Joss was lucky to have him; he never left her guessing about what she was and what was expected of her, and because of that, there had been no issues between her and Tig's brothers…except for the obvious…but Joss immediately evicted those thoughts from her mind. Enough was enough right now. She'd been able to get a good deal of Wednesday's schedule made up before she and Tig left the garage today, and damn if it wasn't shaping up to be another day like today had been! Yeah, she was so lucky to have Tig; she'd really need him to get through this week without falling on her face. She tightened her hold on him and nuzzled her cheek against his back. He'd been the day's only real bright spot, shrugging off and laughing at the way she'd fucked up today with his name. She'd been beaten by other men for doing much less than that, but Tig…he was so insanely violent and yet so sweetly unpredictable at times. Hmm…three miles from home now, and while that meant she'd soon have to take her arms from around her man for the day, it also meant that there was a bathtub to fill with hot water and exotic musky and spicy Moroccan bath oils…and maybe, just maybe, she could get Tig to join her?

On the road up ahead of them was the flatbed truck from Teller-Morrow, pulled to the shoulder in front of a stranded vehicle. Joss's heart rate sped up, driving that truck could only be Juice, or Opie, but she knew she'd seen Opie's name by the flatbed on the sign out sheet for the keys this morning and Juice had taken the tow truck. She felt Tig applying a little bit of brake as they approached, but not so much that Joss feared they'd be stopping. Opie was outside of the truck, attaching tow chains to the frame of the mini-van that sat on the side of the road, looking up when he'd recognized the engine noise of one of the dyna's. He shot Tig an affirming glance, but Tig sped up again, looked ahead at the road, then gave Opie a nod that was all brotherhood and nothing more than MC obligatory respect…but the way Opie's eyes came to rest on Joss and absorb every detail of her, was not.

Chapter 31; Part 2

"What the flaming hell is that?" Tig's face was contorted in pure disgust as he sat across from Joss at the old, warped picnic table outside of the back entrance to the garage, eating lunch with her, Happy, Juice and Sack. The day had been exactly the same as yesterday…crazier than Tig was, and maybe she owed Tig a 'thank you' for being crazy, because Joss had adjusted to the hectic pace and all now and was handling everything in stride. She was no less busy and pulled in a million directions, though…not to mention getting chills and heart palpitations every time the flatbed pulled into the garage to unload a vehicle, but so far, Opie hadn't even so much as looked up at her through the office window. The little bit she had talked to him…well that he'd talked "at" her, he hadn't left her with the impression that he was some kind of villain, but God…what was his game? What did he want? And why didn't he just…do something?

Around eleven o'clock, she'd been hit with another task though that was just in time to push away her Opie anxieties. The guys were ordering lunch, did she want anything, and could she call it in, figure out the tip, collect all the money, pay for it when it arrived and then let them all know when it was here. Ordinarily on a day like this, if Tig had come in and added this to everything else she was under, it would have been more than tough to just nod her head and say "yes" the way she was supposed to, without huffing at him and narrowing her eyes. But she hadn't done that at all, had excitedly taken the menu from him and nearly hugged it to her body, so relieved that she had something else to think about, and also that he was here, really making any thoughts about Opie and his…whatever he was doing, go away. "I brought something," she'd reported to Tig concerning lunch, and he continued to look strangely at her in regards to how happy she seemed to be ordering food then.

And now he was looking at her strangely again as they ate at the old table, but it had nothing to do with the way she was acting. Opie was gone from her mind; her man was with her, though he wasn't exactly charmed by her at the moment. Tig was looking at the food she'd unpacked from the insulated, zippered bag that she'd carried with her to work this morning. The look on his face and tone of his voice had everyone else looking at her food now too. "It's a sandwich!" Joss replied as if revealing some state of the art invention.

Tig wasn't impressed, or satisfied with the information. "That's raisin bread!" He pointed out, as if it wasn't really meant to be consumed, and Happy nodded in some kind of 'back having' agreement with Tig.

"Yeah," Joss shrugged. "With some peanut butter on each side and sliced Granny Smith apples rings in the middle."

Tig groaned like he wished he hadn't asked now, and Joss noticed that Juice and Sack were leaning over her shoulder on either side of where she sat between them, playing looky-lou with her lunch. It was a far cry from the burgers and fried chicken that dominated the table. Tig reached out and tapped a little plastic container that she hadn't open yet. "And what's that?"

"Cubed animal rennet free Cheddar and pickled jalapenos," she knew there'd be no making him happy with the lunch she'd packed for herself, so she might as well just eat it and deal, picking up half of her sandwich and taking a bite.

"Jesus Christ, Joss! Why don't you fucking eat real food?" Tig sighed, despite that she was eating it, right there, in front of him, and again, there was Happy nodding with Tig in some kind of commiserating concurrence. "You heard what Jax's doc—Tara, said. This stuff is going to kill you!"

"That is not what she said!" Joss sighed back and then sighed again. "Tig, you eat all of these things, I've seen you do it!" She countered then took another bite of her sandwich, undeterred by her man's issues, knowing he just had to complain enough to make himself happy that he'd attempted to "save" her. Oh well, she had gotten him to throw away that "X," turn about was fair play.

"You've never seen me eat them all mashed together and calling them 'lunch!'" He replied self righteously, Happy chiming in with a quick, "that's right" that won a 'thank you' nod from Tig. "That is just wrong and unhealthy, and goes against the grain of what's decent in the world."

Joss swallowed, still undaunted, but looked back at him. "Well, I guess you'd be the authority there." She kind of smirked, then grabbed a plastic knife from the lunch order and cut the other half of her sandwich in half again. "It's not so bad," she said to Tig, and Happy, then looked at Juice and Sack on either side of her. "Go ahead, show him. Try it." She encouraged.

Juice, her buddy, could always be counted on, dropping the grease soaked chicken breast he'd been devouring and thanking her for her offer as he grabbed the quarter of her strange sandwich without hesitation, apparently evoking enough curiosity and daring in Sack that he reached for the other part of it too, but Tig glared at him, and he pulled his hand back. "Go ahead," Joss laughed at Sack. "He owns me, not you." She reminded, laughing a little more at how scary Tig was to everyone else, noticing though that Sack was reaching for the little triangle of apples, peanut butter and raisin bread again.

But Tig still pinned him with his now ferocious blue eyes. "Is that so, prospect?"

"No," Sack sighed, but answered immediately and dropped his hand back down into his lap, Tig and Happy looking at each other and laughing on the other side of the table, but it didn't last very long when Joss picked up the quarter of her sandwich that Sack had been willing to give a chance, and dropped it in front of Happy.

"Hey," Happy looked up abruptly at her and sounded like she'd just laid a dead rat in front of him. "That's girl food!"

"Oh, and what…" Joss asked, trying not to smile, because this wouldn't sound like a challenge if she did. "You don't like girls now, Hap?"

Happy's eyes came alive in much the way Tig's did when he was confronted with something concerning his masculinity. "Fuck that bullshit!" He exclaimed, then picked up the quartered sandwich and shoved the whole thing into his mouth.

"Oh man," Tig groaned again, looking at him. "You fell for that? Really?" It was hard not to laugh at how flabbergasted Tig was, "Wow, this love shit is making you soft."

Joss was about to say something, partially to save Happy's rep in Tig's eyes, and also soothe Tig, but Juice spoke before she had a chance too, half of the part of the raisin bread, apple and peanut butter sandwich gone. "It's pretty good, actually!" He reported to the table, everyone but Joss looking at him like it was such an inappropriate time to say something really inappropriate.

Joss smiled at Juice though, ignoring Happy and Tig's dismay. "Thank you, it's really good if you cook it on a griddle like grilled cheese!"

Juice was nodding his head excitedly as he ate the other half. "Hey, think you could do it with a travel iron, too?"

Joss laughed, obviously Juice had no culinary skills. "Yeah, I guess," she said. "No steam setting, though!" And she and Juice burst out laughing together.

"Alright," Tig grunted, looking over at the joyous side of the table. "Enough Home Ec over there!"

Joss sighed, she hadn't expected any less, but now she kinda felt sorry for Tig, who was still looking at his boy Happy like he'd lost him forever. "I'm sorry," she said to Tig, then looked to Happy. "And thank you, Hap. I owe you one!"

"Yeah," Happy kind of laughed, now reacting to the taste of what he'd put in his mouth as though it had been something poisonous. Whether he truly hadn't liked the sandwich, or whether it was just for show, Joss wasn't sure, and didn't really care. She'd made her point…and now poor Tig looked lost and mopey, like someone had moved his food bowl. She shouldn't feel sorry for him, he'd started this and she'd finished it…but there was no victory in making someone she loved as much as she loved Tig feel the way he looked like he felt. Oh…he wasn't alone, just because Happy had a girlfriend now…and he'd always have her…damn, why'd it have to be so busy again today? A blowjob would have made her man feel better, but there was no time to go mess around in the dorms today. Joss sighed, searching for something to say to Tig that would lift him up a little, but also not sound too sappy in front of his brothers, but Happy was talking again. "And since you do owe me," Happy continued, "what kind of flowers do girls like? I'm trying to surprise Lauren with something."

"Ohhh Fuck me!" Tig groaned so loudly and suddenly it was like he'd been shot as he doubled over, clutching his gut. This had clearly not been what he wanted to hear coming out of Happy's mouth, the same way he hadn't wanted to see vegetarian vittles going into it.

"Tig!" Joss half shouted…she felt badly for him, but Jesus, he could be so mellow dramatic! But she also felt the urge to be there for him, like she should catch him or something, though he wasn't really falling. But there was a way to be there for him, even though it wasn't really something she wanted to do. She reached across the table and tore off a piece of the beef patty from his bacon double cheeseburger, preparing herself for the taste and popping it into her mouth, chewing it up and swallowing it hurriedly. Ick…it hadn't only been a love of animals that had pushed her to being vegetarian, but also that she really didn't like meat. "There," she said to him, pretending that the greasy, tire-like taste wasn't still in her mouth. "Better?"

He was quiet a minute, studying the path from his burger to her mouth as if making sure there was no way she could have palmed it, or made it otherwise disappear before it actually was inside her mouth. "A little," he said, sitting there stiffly, but his blue eyes reflected how he was relaxing into the knowledge that she'd submitted, that she cared about him enough to not need to win…that all she did need was him.

In the background Joss heard the flatbed rumbling onto the lot once more, off loading the third vehicle of the day. She told herself to only think about the paperwork that was coming her way, and to be worried only about that, but there was more than paperwork being brought to her by that truck, and she couldn't get the band-aid, the double tap of the fist to the chest, or the stare that had taken in everything she had, out of her mind. Oh God, what would be next? She'd realized that she'd closed her eyes and must have been trying to block out the sounds of the truck when all of a sudden she could see again, and Tig was looking at her the same way he had when he'd come into the office to ask her about ordering lunch and she'd reacted like he was the first human being she'd seen in years. She couldn't let him know anything pertaining to Opie was bothering her, for his own good she couldn't do that, but she also couldn't sit here and worry him into destroying himself either. "Baby," she sighed and looked across the table at him, jerking her head in the direction of the sounds of the flatbed. Towed and impounded vehicles required lots of phone calls and even more paperwork, everyone knew that. "It sounds like I may have to work late tonight." She said apologetically.

"Okay," he shrugged, like it was no big deal, going back to his lunch again. "I can help you with stuff." He added, sounding more like himself, and Joss prayed that Happy wouldn't start talking about Lauren, or that Juice wouldn't start talking about his Lauren, and that Sack wouldn't bring up…whomever he might be with…poor Tig, he'd had more than his fill of love lives today. "I guess I should see about getting you a car, huh?" He suddenly said, surprising Joss, for she'd often thought of how much easier that would make things…it wasn't easy being a one bike family, but there was on other little obstacle to clear on that front.

"And a driver's license would be good too." She said, hoping it wasn't going to set him off on some other new tantrum.

Tig stopped eating again and stared bemusedly at her. "Seriously?"

"Well, when would I have gotten it?" She asked him, raising her eyebrows. "You know what I've been through…"

Tig nodded, yeah, he understood, he just wasn't going to elaborate on it. "We can handle that," he said calmly, then reached across the table, opening her little plastic container of cubed cheese and pickled jalapenos, and then set it in front of her, handing her a fork…but he wasn't done, the evil gears were turning in his evil mind…he was going to somehow make her suffer for making Happy eat vegetarian cuisine, and for never mentioning she didn't have a license…then he picked up his burger again and tore off a big hunk of the beef and some bacon, depositing it on top of her cheese and peppers, sort of like a cherry atop a sundae. He smiled at her, knowing he had her. "Eat!"


	32. No, Not That

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 32

"Joss," she was laying there, facing him with her head on her pillow as he lay across from her, his head on his own pillow, watching her. Tig hated it when she lay face to face with him and fell asleep that way…he didn't know why, but he suspected that it was because Joss's porcelain skin was so flawless, and her hair so shiny, her eyelashes so perfectly curled, her pink lips so heart like in shape as she slept…she just sort of looked kinda 'doll like,' and it freaked him out. He'd have complained her much earlier than this about her position, but he had a lot on his mind tonight. Joss looked like she was close to falling asleep, if not there already, she was likely tired, long day at the garage, hard, driving night in bed…with lots of fluids and lubes…but for some reason, everything inside Tig said not to let her sleep. "You awake?"

Her eyes opened and she looked at him then sighed. "Okay, Tig…" she flopped onto her back, her naked body going limp, arms and legs at odd angles, "but just remember that I am alive, and if you pull my hair, I do feel it." Her head immediately then dropped against the mattress, neck bent awkwardly, her eyes staring off at nothing, expression frozen, laying there completely still and lifeless.

"Cool!" He stared at her, one eyebrow raised, unable to help being impressed and stimulated. Wow! He had a dog when he was kid who could "play dead," but not like this! But no, now wasn't the time, he really did have to talk to her…but maybe first he could…no…yes…no…but she was just lying there, masking every breath even…no! "But, that's not what I meant…so, come on back."

Again Joss sighed, but then looked back at him, sitting up a bit instead of laying around like he'd just…dragged her and tossed her body somewhere…no! She yawned a little. "What do you want?"

"I wanna talk to you." He said, because he did, he'd wanted to ever since she'd been all funny when he'd asked her about ordering lunch. Something was on her mind, and she wasn't talking about it, and Joss never 'not' talked to him about stuff like that, and it had always annoyed the shit out of him that she couldn't handle her own problems, or that for her, he was that person she felt comfortable telling them all to…but now, well, things had changed, she was his, her problems were his problems and it was his job to put them down…but how could he if she didn't tell him what they were? She was making him look bad in front of the club, damn it! Yeah…sure, that's why he'd finally decided to ask her what the hell was wrong…his rep with the club. Well, that's what he was going with anyway.

"Are you mad with me?" Joss surprised him by asking, looking at him like she expected he might be.

"Should I be?" Hey, wasn't the bitch who usually asked that in this kind of conversation? What the fuck? "No, I'm not." He quickly answered, not wanting to play that game, or trade gender roles. "But I am worried about you, and if you don't tell me what's going on with you, then I'll be mad."

"And what if what I'm worried about isn't something you want to know about?" She asked, but Tig knew Joss's stalling when he heard it.

"Unless you're knocked up, then we got no problems with that." He answered sternly, but reached over and took her hand, rubbing a circle softly on her palm with his thumb. "So, what's up?"

"It's nothing," she immediately answered, but realized that she shouldn't have said that, and it had only made Tig look at her more austerely, he held her hand a little more tightly, but instead of making with another answer, Joss sighed again, and played with her hair, like she was really avoiding saying what it was. He was just about to get a little rougher and louder with his demands to know when she finally sat all the way up, her eyes on his. "Can I tell you something?"

This was new, usually Joss wanted to know if she could "ask" him things. "I'm who you should be telling everything to, so yeah!" He hadn't meant to sound that gruff and spiteful, but he'd been geared up to force her troubles out of her, and it wasn't easy to just switch that off.

She sighed, sat there with her legs folded beneath her and her arms straight, palms on the mattress like they were the only things holding her upright. She looked so stiff and ill at ease, what the hell was wrong? She looked at him, her eyes so sad and so confused, and so scared. The harshness and brutality that was slowly awakening instantly extinguished and all he wanted to do now was take her in his arms and promise her that whatever it was, it would be okay. What the fuck? And he'd told Happy earlier today that he was getting 'soft?' Man…Tig was becoming the fucking Pillsbury Dough Boy! Whatever, his old lady, his sweet, dark, perfect angel, was in trouble, and the only thing that mattered to him was making it all go away for her. "Joss?"

She closed her eyes a moment then shook her head before opening them again. "I," she sighed. "I don't think I like…Jax."

Whoa! Tig found himself suddenly sitting up in the same fashion Joss was, that had been the very last thing he'd expected to hear. He'd been sure this was some kind of…Opie related shit…he worried about that still, despite the stitches still in Opie's face. But this…this was better! Why was he smiling? "Me either, what's your reason?" He asked her eagerly, but Joss was obviously more stressed by this than he'd ever been. Shit…just when they really could have had something in common! But no, if this was troubling to her, then he had to respect her feelings…wait, no he didn't…he owned her fucking feelings, for shit sake! What the hell was happening to him? And why did he always ask that, but never have a fucking answer?

"Tig," Joss looked at him and rolled her eyes, but sadly this time. "I don't know what to do here." She said, "You don't know how awful it feels to know I have an issue with one of your brothers, I really do want to get along with all of them…but when one of them is just…creating…tension, and there's nothing I can do to make it stop…I start to feel…I don't know…like there's something bad about to happen at every turn."

Tig sighed, but smiled a little as he shook his head. "Joss," he said warmly as he kissed her forehead. "Jax isn't worth that much thought, and he ain't worth being afraid of either."

She looked at him and sort of blinked, or awakened to something he'd said, or maybe she was about to cry? "Jax…" she sighed again. "I know how you feel about him, and I understand, but you have to understand that this is the first time I haven't liked someone who has never done anything bad directly to me."

Tig nodded, okay, that was something to get used to…for her anyway. "So," he looked at her again. "Like I already asked, why don't you like him?"

"I don't know," she answered, like she was frustrated with herself, trying to get things worked out in her head. Maybe she wasn't ready to talk about this? But she was going to…mostly because Tig's curiosity was killing him. "I mean, I do know, but it's not like one thing, it's a bunch of things, and none of them are really reasons to hate someone…but…I don't know." She looked back to Tig like she needed help with…hating Jax? Okay, he could definitely coach the hell out of that!

"Joss," it was so fucking hard not to smile, but Tig knew he couldn't. "Just talk to me, baby. I'm not going to tell anyone what you said." Well…unless she said something really intelligent that might come in handy the next time Jax was pushing some bullshit issue that was nearly winning his brothers over and Tig might need something to counter it that would make everyone at the table stop and go 'hmmmm?' Joss was a genius, she had that kind of power, and he'd borrow it if he needed it…he owned her damn it!

Again Joss was silent for a few seconds, liking looking for a page she'd marked in a book, but in her head instead. "There are things that really do annoy me about Jax. I've been thinking about them ever since Clay said about how he 'didn't do Jax any favors' when he was growing up," she began. "And I don't know if that's true, I wasn't there after all…but something happened, or didn't happen, because Jax is…he's…" Joss sighed again. "He's going to get a lot people hurt, or worse, and he doesn't even seem to realize it."

Tig and Clay had this conversation so many times…and now he was having it with his Joss, who was so fucking aware of how SAMCRO needed to work and what threatened it, and she hadn't been here near as long as Jax the pussy! Holy shit, she was so damn perfect! She'd hit that nail on the head! And this was an easy enough worry to put down too! "Listen, Clay and I are not going to let that happen," Tig promised her, taking her by the shoulders. "I can't tell you what our disaster plan is, but I can tell you we have one, and everything will be fine, and everyone will be safe, except for those that need their uppity asses kicked until hell won't have them again."

Joss nodded shallowly then turned her pretty green eyes back up to him, void of all the liner and mascara now, but no less gorgeous. "But what about Tara?"

"Tara?" He groaned, looking at her like he had no idea why she'd bring her up. What the hell did she mean by 'what about Tara?' Who cared about Tara? Tara was an accessory to the fact of how dangerously inept and unsuited to the office of Vice President Jax Teller was. Tara was state's evidence, so to speak. Really, who cared about Tara? And why in hell was Joss looking at him like he'd just suggested they put the family's old dog down? Oh…"Baby," Tig sighed, rubbing her shoulders a little. "She's not something that's fixable, you know that."

"But," she sighed, looked so restless. "I know you don't like her, but she's my friend, Tig!" Joss shook her head, whatever tentativeness, or hesitation that had been there before in her was now gone. "I can't keep watching while Jax just leads…no, while he just lets her drift into being 'unfixable.'" Joss looked like she was finally getting a little angry now, about Jax being a douche…that was hot…hotter than her being "dead"…almost…no, focus! It really was too bad nothing could really be done about her friend, but come on; Jax's doctor bitch was more than just the gawky, snooty wench-bag that Jax allowed her to be…she just didn't fit. Huh? What the hell was a 'wench-bag?' Never mind. Because, wow, Joss was angry, not spider monkey crazy, but yeah, his dark, little angel was pissed with Jax! Awesome! And man, was his perfect little Joss rolling with it all now, too! "It's not enough that Jax has to treat me like I'm twelve years old…and he does, you've seen him do it…I swear, sometimes he makes me wanna stand up and scream, 'I killed my father, you fuck-nut, now back up off of me!"

'Fuck-nut!' Yes! Tig was grinning now, couldn't stop. "Good girl!" How many times had he felt the exact same kind of frustration while sitting across from Jax in 'church?' "Oh but baby, I wouldn't do that about the whole…father killing thing," he advised with a calm shake of his head. "And for the record, I told Clay that it was me, I took out your old man."

For a moment Joss's venting stopped and she looked at him with sudden surprise. "You did?"

"Yeah," Tig answered, but was eager to get back to what she'd been saying before. "Call me a hopeless romantic…" he laughed. "But c'mon, I don't wanna stop you, this is good for you, gettin' it all out and shit…"

Joss snapped right back into it as easily as she'd snapped out of it. Perfect, perfect, perfect…she was so fucking perfect! "I don't like the position he puts Gemma in, and I don't like what he's doing to Clay, making him sit around like some rueful old man, talking about how he didn't do enough for his kid," Joss stopped a moment and took a deep breath, Tig fearing that she was cooling down already, but he couldn't have been more wrong. She was only gearing up for the big finale! "Yeah, Clay didn't do enough for 'poor Jax'…'poor Jax' didn't get 'structure'…you know what else 'poor Jax' didn't get? Abandoned by his mother, and fucked up his ass by his own father, who shoved him out in front of pageant judges and Mensa panels and then locked him away from the world!" Again she paused, needing to breathe again, but she was far from done. "Jax had everything that I would have killed for! Do you know what I would have given for a mom like Gemma and a dad like Clay?" She looked at Tig with so much latent begging and pleading her eyes, like he somehow held the power to go back in time and rescue her from the hell that had been her childhood, and transplant her into the Teller-Morrow household, while he took 'poor Jax' out behind the woodshed…and damn it, Tig wished he somehow could do all that for her.

Joss paused, needed a breath, her lovely green eyes so alive with this frustration, this anger, this jealousy that she hated Jax for making her feel. "Gemma and Clay don't deserve a kid like that, and I didn't deserve a father like the one I had…" she was shaking her head now, "I don't know why things like this happen, but they do, and I'm so fucking tired of having to sit here and just deal with it all, and have to watch Jax float through life, while I could lose two people I love like family, the only girlfriend I've ever had, and…" she paused again, looking up at Tig, who detected some weakening in her voice like maybe she might cry this time, but she was doing a good job with damming up those tears. "And the only man I've ever loved," she put her hand on his chest, over where his heart was for some reason now pounding, but it wasn't the thrill of knowing Joss was 'not so much' on Jax that did it. "Tig," she looked right into his eyes, in that way that he knew she could see so much more than what he wanted her to…fuck, he hated it when she did this…because he couldn't not look back at her or break whatever this…divine connection was. "You are everything to me and you always will be, no matter what happens with…Jax. You do understand that, don't you?" He nodded, or more accurately, his head did…he had no fucking control whenever she looked at him like that, he just turned into some kind of…love zombie. Love?

Fuck! Fuck fuck fuckity fuck fuck fuck! Nooooo! Jesus fucking Christ…this had all started out so cool…and now it was HERE! On the inside, Tig was prostrate on the floor, kicking, screaming and blubbering…he didn't want to have this! Shit! Shit shit shitity shit shit shit! Alright, now he sounded like he was writing some kind of song to help toddlers learn to cuss! But…oh come on…this was…oh fuck…it was on him…it was in him…he'd said/thought the word lo—no! Never again! Jesus…did he just slap himself in the head for real, or was that imaginary? It was so hard to tell anymore…come on, get it together, man…focus on the 'zombie' part…he could handle that…he just had to eat a brain, and everything'd be okay! God damn…this girl…

"Tig?" Why was he shaking? Was the bed moving? Earthquake? The end of the world was coming? Shit! He always knew somehow…that had to be one of the proverbial seven signs…he falls in lo—oh no, nice try there love! Fuck! FUCK! That was TWICE! And now all this screaming in his head was giving him a damn headache. Why the fuck couldn't he stop shaking? Oh…cuz Joss's hands were on his shoulders…shaking him.

"Stop it!" He threw his arms up and kind of exploded away from her, but then grew somber. "Yeah, okay, I get it…you lo-like me, and nothing's ever…ever…ever…going to make that stop…for the rest of my life…here I am."

Joss was looking at him now very strangely, but she wasn't in fear for her own safety, he could tell that. "Are you okay?"

"Oh-kay?" He said the word like his lips and tongue had never formed the sound of it before. "A few minutes ago, you were pretending to be corpse, because you know it gets me hot, and you ask me if I'm 'okay?'"

"Good point," Joss nodded, but was still looking at him like he was standing on the ledge of a high rise building. "But, you're all of sudden acting a little more…Tiggish than usual."

Damn…he did have her worried…he could see it on her face, she was even making up adjectives now…'wenchbag'…really, what the hell was that? Alright, just stop…he could handle this…after all, the "L" word hadn't made it out of the confines of his fucked up mind…and as long as he didn't keep letting it shake him around in its giant, nasty teeth, it wouldn't either. Okay…face the "L" word beast…shit, why couldn't the "L" word be "lesbian?" He'd faced a lot of them…the Dykes on Bikes…yeah, as into pussy as he was, but he'd found three of them that couldn't turn down a hard eight inch cock…okay, that little happy place had helped some…face the beast…take its power away from it…okay…here he went…any time now…he lo—…okay, take it slow, don't wanna pull anything…try again…he lo—v'd Joss…alright, just warm up to it…Joss, she was so perfect and he lo…v…ed her…he lo…ved her…he loved Joss. And it hadn't killed him…and the earth, as of yet, had not exploded. Tig's eyes opened, and he hadn't realized they'd even been closed. He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. Wow, did he ever feel exhausted. "I'm fine." He said to Joss, and he was slowly beginning to be again…sort of…even though there was now this thing inside him that didn't really belong there…that he hadn't had before he met her…damn that girl…they really did have cooties!

Joss sighed in relief too, but she was still watching him, concerned, but not hovering over him, which was good…he didn't need any hovering right now. But she wanted to talk, he could tell. "So…"

"Hey," He looked at her and said, still not able to shake this feeling of being weirded out…by himself. "Can we just turn out the light, lay down, close our eyes and pretend to be asleep like you never just saw me go catatonic on you?"

Joss smiled, laughed a little bit. Good, she wasn't weirded out. "Sounds like a great idea!"

"Good!" He sighed, Joss laying back down and turning away from him, just like he liked her to be, as Tig reached over and turned out the light, lying down once more like he had been before hell froze over. Joss was quiet, didn't turn her head to give him one last sweet little glance of affection like she usually did before closing her eyes to sleep, she just ignored him. Damn, she really really really was perfect. No wonder he lo—ved her. And she loved him, no matter what, always. Tig lay there, staring at the back of her head in the dark, imagining that he could hear the rhythm of her heartbeat…or was it just his own? Whichever one it was, it sounded lonely. He moved a little closer to Joss, then a little bit more, and a little bit more, not touching her with his body, but he was close enough to feel the warmth of hers, radiating all over his, like rays of the sun, even in the darkest night.


	33. Creep Meter

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 33

Tig had been slow to wake this morning, groggy and cranky, like he sometimes was if he drank too much before falling asleep; he hadn't talked much this morning either…or at all, really, just doing a lot of staring at things that he saw every day as though something was different about them. Joss had started out talking to him like usual, but after the second time she said some normal, typical, "ready to go to work" kind of thing that got zero response, just an odd stare, she too had just taken a page from his strange book this morning and was quiet. They'd been a few minutes late to work, but there were subtle hints that Tig was slowly coming out of whatever his weird and sudden funk was, maybe because he was at work now and he had to, but whatever, as long he pushed through it. Joss had been keeping tabs on him, still a bit concerned by whatever had happened to him the night before, she'd never seen him just…have an 'out of body experience' like that…she didn't know what else to call it…but she'd never seen him do it before, that was for certain!

Maybe she'd caused his little spell last night? She'd tried so hard to convince him that she'd been talking about Jax, and she was…some of the time…for Jax certainly had been becoming increasingly frustrating, and had no clue about how much hurt he was going to bring to how many people, but it wasn't Jax who was making her worry the way she was. That was Opie…and when Tig had demanded to know what was wrong with her, she had to tell him, but she couldn't tell him that! So she'd swapped their names…ended up getting to vent about Jax a little, which was good, but it didn't do a damn thing to solve her Opie problem. She'd been so sure that if she said she didn't like Jax, that Tig would be so ecstatic to hear that, he'd only focus on that, and not read between any lines she may have inadvertently been putting out there for him to read between: 'she didn't know what to do here…one of his brothers was creating tension, and she couldn't stop it…something bad was going to happen…but that she loved Tig, always, no matter what happened.' But maybe Tig did know what she'd really been saying, and about whom?

This morning when she woke up, and moved to stretch like she usually did when the six o'clock in the morning alarm went off, her elbow moved back, right into Tig's ribs. It wasn't jarring and didn't even wake him but, what was he doing there? There was maybe an inch or two between him and her, no parts of them touched until she'd stretched; but the way he was laying there mimicked the shape of her form, it was like he was…"air" spooning her or something. But she knew it was best not to call attention to it, and particularly not to wake him and let him notice how close to her he'd ended up during the night. Joss carefully sat up, and then went downstairs to make coffee…if Tig woke up in a "mood," at least she'd have caffeine in her defense arsenal. And he'd waken up in a "mood," that was for sure…but just which one this was, Joss couldn't identify. He didn't seem to be angry at her, when Tig was angry at her it was very apparent and nearly boundless in the way he expressed it. But this? No, he wasn't glaring, yelling, hitting anything, or even had that anvil like heaviness of just out and out being incensed with something that had something, or nothing at all, to do with her. Nope, he'd just been looking at her the same way he'd been looking at everything else since he opened his eyes…like he didn't belong in such surroundings.

Eight twelve…they'd been at work over an hour now, and the days weren't getting any easier or relaxed, but Joss had adjusted so much to the pace…plus, the flatbed had pulled away, with Opie in it, so he was out of sight and out of mind for at least two hours, maybe more, and Clay, like every morning so far, had been who grabbed the flatbed keys from the office, wrote Opie's name beside them on the sign out sheet and then walked them outside to Opie, to avoid any face to face situations with him for Joss, and therefore, Tig. Tig, she could hear him literally banging around in various places in the garage this morning, talking a little now…but it seemed he was conversing more with things rather than people. Well, when he had something on his mind, he could be quiet, that wasn't odd…but this…kinda was.

"Morning Sweetheart," Bobby's face suddenly appeared through the opening office door, he carried a Styrofoam cup with the string of a tea bag hanging out of it that he set down in front of her.

"Thank you!" Joss smiled, every now and then, when she sorted out a scheduling mess for them in the garage, or reassigned repairs when something came in that she by now knew certain guys abhorred or loved, they'd thank her with random little gifts from the vending machine. Wow, she hadn't even done anything yet, and Bobby was bringing her tea? Hmm…this might not be a random act of kindness, though…Tig…but Joss played it cool, smiled up at Bobby. Why invite trouble? "Good morning to you also!"

"So," Bobby took a seat in the chair nearest the water cooler in the office. "What's with your old man today?"

Oh God…this wasn't good if the people who had known Tig the longest were asking these questions…but again, why invite trouble? "Well…" Joss nodded; there was no sense in trying to pretend she hadn't noticed if the rest of everyone else had. "He had a rough night last night."

Bobby nodded. "Everything okay between you two?"

"Yeah," Bobby asking that was a total surprise…that's what Jax stood around and did…hmm…Jax must not have been at work yet…but then, his name was on the garage, so, hey, what's was the rush to get here? Okay, if she started to let herself get all annoyed with Jax today, combined with her now usual Opie issues, it was going to bleed into everything else around her, and Tig would be in a straight jacket by lunch. "I mean, we're not fighting or anything, whatever Tig's going through, it's all his."

Again Bobby nodded. "But you have noticed that he's a little…" he searched for the right word that wouldn't offend her…or maybe that wouldn't scare her. "A little 'off,' even for him? It's like he's on some kind of five or ten second delay with things."

Joss sighed, but this time, it was in a little bit of relief. She wasn't sure why Tig was doing that 'delay' thing, but she had seen it before, when he was incredibly distracted by something that, like she'd said to Bobby moments ago, was all inside him, and all his. She was about to say to Bobby that Tig was likely okay…sort of…when she heard Tig's footsteps ambling passed the office door, passing it, but then quickly stopping as he jerked around, realizing he'd wanted to go in there. The door opened, and stayed open for a few seconds…then Tig came in, looked at Bobby blankly, then looked at Joss the same way, said nothing, just stood there, then let the door close behind him, and shuffled over to the chair on the other side of Gemma's desk across from where Joss sat, sitting down, and without a word, collapsed onto the desk like he'd lost consciousness, but it was soon obvious that he hadn't.

"Hey," he said to her, his tone not so much cheerful, but it was still very much a greeting, as if he didn't even notice that his voice muffled beneath his arms that were folded against each other on the back of his head.

"Hey," Again Joss did her best to sound completely normal in talking to Tig, but she could feel the peculiar look on Bobby's face, and before she realized it, she was glancing back at him the same way, but she made herself focus on Tig again. "Something wrong?" It wasn't every day he melted onto her desk like that.

There were a few seconds of silence, no one saying anything, like she and Bobby were trying desperately to communicate with a spirit or something. Maybe they were? Who knew anymore? Tig didn't move, didn't breathe, didn't do anything, it was like someone had pressed the off button, and then from out of nowhere, "Everything hurts," he said, from underneath the lump of…himself. Joss's brow furrowed and her want to just hold him instantly surged, she'd leaned towards him a little, trying to decide if the soft touch of a comforting hand was a good idea, but then Tig startled her by moving his arms apart just a little, just enough that one ice blue eye looked out at her. "I think I slept wrong."

"Okay," Joss stuck to sounding and acting like everything was normal, maybe Tig would start to follow along…but Oh God, he looked like a giant cartoon clam! It was kind of funny, and kind of not. But she gave Bobby a nod like it was all okay…like she actually knew it was, and then got up from the desk, heading to the filing cabinet where she had haunting memories of the first aid kit being there in the top drawer. But she pushed through them, Tig's current crisis outweighing every other one in the world, even her own. She opened the top drawer, finding the familiar old tool box…from that night…with the paper cut…and the…Stop! Tig was going through enough for more than both of them, including Bobby who was a spectator to it all at the moment. Joss found a bottle of aspirins, opening it and shaking four of them into her hand, knowing the only thing Tig would scoff at more than four aspirins was two aspirins. She closed the aspirin bottle, then the first aid kit, and finally closed that filing cabinet too…and it felt good to be moving away from it. Bobby gave her a raised eyebrows look of apprehension as she neared Tig, but Joss shook her head. She was much more afraid for him than she was of him. "Tig," she said softly, this time taking the chance and laying her hand gently on his shoulder, and there was absolutely no response to it, not good, not bad. "Here," she said. "Take these." That was apparently was a comforting phrase he liked, because there was no delay in the way he stuck his supine hand up to take the pills from her, and then unfolded the rest of himself and sat upright for a change. "I'll get you some water," she said, but just as she turned her back to go to the water cooler, she heard crunching over her shoulder. She turned back to Tig and sighed, shaking her head. "Or, you could just chew them up…"

"Hey," Tig said again, absolutely no indication on his face that there was any acrid, bitter taste in his mouth…and there for sure should have been. "You gotta minute?"

Joss could see the shadow of Bobby's hair sort of tremble on the wall in the morning sunlight, he really wanted to shake his head 'no,' but of course he didn't. Not that it would have deterred Joss anyway. She saw more lost little boy in Tig than she did ticking time bomb. "I'm yours, baby," she said sweetly to Tig. "I've got all the minutes you need."

Without any warning at all, Tig got to his feet. "I'm at the bike." He said to her, sounding almost like he was with it again then disappeared out the door, Joss turning to follow him, but before she could, Bobby put himself between her and the door, his hands both up in front of him like advertising that he was unarmed.

"Joss," he said shaking his head a lot now. "Honey, I gotta tell you, this ain't the smartest idea I've heard all morning."

Joss sighed, part of her wanting to just tear passed Bobby and get out there after Tig, half because she knew he needed her, and half because she was afraid he might just wander off somewhere. "I know," she said to Bobby. "I understand what this looks like, and I'm grateful that you're doing what you're doing, but…" how did she say this and not sound like she was telling Bobby to mind his own business? She wasn't angry or offended by what he was doing after all…it wasn't like he was Jax-ing it and going and saying something like, "No, I'll talk to him, you stay here!" and then rushing in with his cape fluttering behind him in the wind. Joss looked back at Bobby, and she smiled. "Look, I've got a lot of big brothers around here," she said. "And if I need any of you, you know I'll yell or scream or come running, okay? But you have to at least let me talk to him first…just because he's really fucked up right now doesn't make me any less his old lady, and there's not a lot of room for big brothers in that."

"Well," Bobby was beginning to relent now, nodding his head and shifted his weight like he was going to get out of her way now, but at the last second, he stood strong in her path again, "How about just a very concerned uncle?"

Though her concern for Tig was running rampant, Joss laughed. "Okay," she said, appreciating the way Bobby did this so much more than the way Jax just took over situations that had nothing to do with him. "If you stand in here, and lean up against the wall like this, you can sorta see where we are through the window in the door." She explained, indicating the spot on the wall…where she hid three or four times a day, peering out at the flatbed to see if it was gone off the lot yet. "If I need you, I'll do like Carol Burnett, and pull on my earlobe, okay?"

Chapter 33; Part 2

Bleh, he shouldn't have chewed up those aspirins! Things were slowly becoming a little clearer now, not so much of a big passel of shapes and noises that came at him from out of a gray mist anymore…but why did the aspirin taste have to be the clearest and most prominent among them? But at least Joss, in her perfectness, had brought him a cup of cold water from the water cooler when she'd come out to meet him. She really was perfect, she had everything, she was beautiful, sexy, way beyond intelligent, patient, understanding, had a style that gave nod enough to his dark-side and kept him so spellbound every time he looked at that shimmering black hair with the flashes of ruby red, the nearly snow white skin, full red lips and those cool green eyes, dressed in the essence of an Egyptian goddess. Normally…well, maybe not 'normally,' but lately, when he thought about all these things, it made Tig happier than he could stand being. It still did make him happy…but happy in a way that had staked him to the ground and trampled him under the hooves of a thousand horses…at least, that's what he felt like today, both physically and mentally, not able to get control of everything that was racing through his mind, just the same fucking question again and again and again, and no one could answer it except for Joss. He knew he l…ov…ed her now…as unsettling as it was…but…he had every reason to! But what the hell did she see in him? Shit! This was why he didn't want fall in fucking love with anyone, not even a damn hamster!

"Hey," Joss gave him a little, nurturing smile as she handed him the cup of water. "If you're not feeling good, why don't you go home? I can get a ride with Happy or someone."

She was so caring and so sweet, how did he compare to that? "I don't know why you're with me and it's making me fuckin' crazy!" Fuck, he'd meant to sort of lead up to that, but well, it was on the table now for sure.

Joss held still, blinking like she was thinking this over or something, but she didn't look scared or anything bad like that, so that was good at least. "That's what this is?" She asked, indicating his mood and behaviors with a wave of her elegant, white index finger, tipped with a black nail bearing the letter "G" from his name. "That's what's making you 'fucking crazy?'"

Yeah, why the hell wasn't she understanding this? Oh…yeah, because she didn't know what tragedy befell his thoughts last night. But she didn't need to, damn it! "Would you just tell me, please?"

"Tig," she was laughing, not hard or anything like she thought he was stupid or something, but why in hell was she laughing? "Sit," she said, and gently pushed him back against his bike, until he did take a seat on it, waiting with his heart pounding in his ears. Joss sighed and looked at him so adoringly, then reached down and held one of his hands, that didn't have a cup of water in it, in between both of hers. "I could ask you the same question."

Huh? "What the fuck does that mean?" He was getting irritated now, he wanted an answer damn it, not something thought provoking! But hey…she didn't know why he was with her either?

"It means that you have worked so hard and so long steeling yourself against anything that might try to touch you in anyway, that there's no way I should be where I am with you." Joss answered distinctly. "Every morning now, I wake up and when you tell me 'good morning,' I can't believe that you even talk to me! We're not from the same places Tig, we just got fucked over in a lot of the same ways, but that's not something that we could really look at each other and immediately see."

Okay, Joss had a point…but how could he twist it into something that sounded like bad news for him? He didn't really want to, but then, he didn't know any other way to respond to what she'd just said. "So…what?" He started; looking at her like that wasn't good enough. "You're only with me because you gotta busted creep-meter?"

"What's a 'creep-meter?'" Joss asked, like he was starting to speak in tongues or something.

"It's this thing I read about years ago, when I got back from Africa, and was falling apart faster than the army could try and glue me back together." Tig explained, wondering why he'd bothered telling her that part, but then, Joss knew more about his tour of duty in Somalia than anyone who knew him now. "It's when someone grows up with trauma and fear in their everyday life, or if they go through something traumatic enough, they lose the ability to look at other people and be able to tell if they're a 'creep' or not, because in their experience, everyone is."

Joss nodded her head, digesting this new information, but in no time, she looked back at him with a level stare. "Again, same question for you, Tig."

What? No…she didn't think that he thought that she was a…oh, this was too fucking confusing. And there were still no answers. "Well how the fuck is this going to work if neither one of us know why the other one is with us?"

"Tig!" Now Joss looked exactly the way she did last Tuesday when the hectic schedule of the garage was dragging her along for the ride. "Okay," she took a deep breath, looked at him again, right in the eyes…which is how all this shit started last night, but fuck, there he was, paralyzed and not able to look away from her. "Do you know why you're with me?"

What kind of motherfucking stupid question was that? "Yes I know why I'm with you, that's why I'm fucking with you, Joss!" He yelled, not having meant to, but it just sorta slipped out.

"Okay, good!" She yelled back. "I know why I'm fucking with you too, Tig, so that's why this is going to work!"

Wow, she'd actually yelled louder than he had! But what had she said? Oh shit…it felt like it might have been the answer too…but he was just so out of it today…wait…he had caught what she'd said, and it was his answer…and it shut him up immediately too. His Joss…she was so perfect! And she was also talking again…but not yelling…she looked kind of…sorry.

"You know," she said as she calmed herself and looked at him with a heavy stare. "I just realized that this thing you've been under this morning is my fault."

"What?" He'd just blurted that out, eyes wide…shit…fuck…she didn't know what he'd been thinking last night, did she? She was only a genius…mind readers weren't real…right? "Joss…don't…"

"No, let me, I need to say this." She said. "And I realize that in saying this, I'm usurping your power, and you feel free to back hand me if you want to, because it's certainly your right to do so, but the truth is, when it comes to how I feel about you, and if I'm happy, that's under my control, and on me to decide upon and express, not you." She sighed, looked so ashamed of herself. Tig was shocked. He'd never expected this conversation…this whole damn morning, to take this turn. "I haven't been doing that, and it turned you into 'this' this morning…and I've been discounting the stress and pressure you're under when it comes to putting your patch on me, too. I guess I just got so caught up in what I am to you in terms of being property, and what's expected out of me, that I just ignored the fact that I could be telling you that you're doing great, that you're really there for me and you're really helping me fit into this new situation, with new people, and a whole new life." She was beginning to look a little weepy, but Tig was too awestruck by what she was saying to be able to even move…he just sat there and listened, and was amazed with each word that came out of her mouth. Nope…no one had an old lady like her…no one! "Oh, Tig, I'm so sorry!" She was weepy, and begging his forgiveness for a trespass he didn't even realize she'd committed. "You are doing great though…better than great, there's no one in any MC anywhere that's better than you! You give me everything I need, and even some things that I could have maybe gotten along without, but that you did go the through the motions and put out the extra effort anyway, and it makes me want to be with you for that alone right there!" Her eyes were on his, sparkling with tears…so pretty even though she was so sad, and Tig dropped the cup of water, reaching out and putting his hands on her hips, drawing her into him. "I should have said this so much sooner than now," Joss continued as he pressed the side of her tear streaked face to his shoulder…realizing too late that he wasn't fighting doing so. "But I didn't, and in a way, I was doing to you what Jax is doing to Tara, and that really sucks!"

"Joss, I…" Whoa! What was he about to say? Not that thing that had unleashed all this bedlam in his head last night! That wasn't something he wanted all out in the open like that! He didn't even want it all inside in the closed up attacks of his fucked up mentality! "Joss…I" Hey! Stop doing that! What the fuck was going on? Well, how the fuck could he get control with her body all up against him like this? He let go of her, pushing her away gently and looked at her, crying as she was. He took a deep breath. "Joss, 'this'" he kind of waved his hands around her and everything she'd said, even though her words weren't hanging in the air to indicate…but they sure were hanging inside him and making him nearly spit out something he was never going to say. "this, the stuff you say that makes everything make sense just when I don't see how anything is ever going to make sense ever again, is why I'm with you, too." She looked at him and smiled instantly, wiping away her tears, but smart enough, perfect enough, not to utter a 'thank you.' Damn…she'd righted him…brought him back from the brink of something that he thought was never going to let go of him. And she was so beautiful…even with those black streaks of eyeliner marking the alabaster of her skin. Tig threw his leg over his bike. He had such an urge to…be with her…which to him only meant one thing, even though it didn't feel like it usually did when he wanted to "be with her." Still, he wanted what he wanted…whatever that was. "Get on," he told her, finding the keys in his pocket and putting them in the ignition.

"What?" Joss asked, looking confused and surprised, obviously wondering about work, but she did as she was told, climbing on behind him into the place that in an strange way, had never been anyone's but hers. "Where are we going?"

"The old dorm," he said, and then revved the throttle like it was some kind of victory cry. "I'm slippin' it to you early today."


	34. Junk Food

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

_Warning:__ This chapter contains descriptions of sexual acts._

Chapter 34

Quarter to two…it had been such an interesting day…and Joss was starving! The lettuce and peanut butter sandwich on whole wheat she'd brought for lunch, and eaten at her desk to make up for that hour of work she'd ended up missing, just wasn't enough food. Well, maybe it would have been if Tig hadn't hijacked her away from work in the mid morning hours and taken her over to his old dorm. It was so hard to tell in that situation just where she was supposed to be…but when it really came down to it, she was Tig's, not Teller-Morrow's. Maybe just abandoning her post at the garage wasn't exactly 'professional,' but Tig needed her, it had been an awful morning full of staggering around and behaving like someone forgot to give him his Haladal. And it had been worth it to just drop everything and fuck him though! But it was different, kind of like…"security blanket" sex…but then, Joss knew she'd just made that up…well, she'd made up the name, Tig had really been the one who made up the sex…that oddly enough, hadn't been that much about sex. He didn't have any plan to be that way, likely didn't even realize what he was even doing or saying, he was just being honest with her as far as what he wanted, as he wanted it; it may have been sweet and damn near tender here and there, but it wasn't any different than when he told her to hold her breath and not move, not talk, not do anything a living body might do.

Hmm…she'd grown accustomed to that particular quirk of his…and that side of him was easily Joss's least favorite to have to placate, but now, against what he'd wanted her to be and do in the dorm this morning, letting him pretend she was dead felt a little easier to deal with. It was just a "thing," something Tig needed when he needed it…sometimes she was a dead girl, but today, she'd been something he just couldn't let go of, or, between the lines of what he was saying, love enough.

That dorm…that old, cruddy, smelly, cramped room, where Tig lived for so many years, and fucked so many women…Joss never figured it would be anything to them, or to her at least, than a good enough spot for a quickie, but now…hmm…she smiled; Tig and his moods. She'd never felt so needed by a man before…or by anyone really, because it had gone way beyond being sexual, even though that had anchored it all. Tig was kind of like a parrot when it came to verbalizing emotional things, he had a limited vocabulary of stuff he knew how to say, and would say, only unlike a parrot, the "I" and the "you" type of statements were often times reversed in terms of what Joss knew he meant. "Tell me you love me," was really "I'm telling you I love you," still a bit odd and stiff in the construction of the sentence, but then, that's how Joss knew what Tig's true meaning was, he'd never be comfortable with feeling that. But today, so many things started to be said, things she'd never heard him say before, but true to Tig, they were in need of just as much exploration and interpretation, like some avant-garde poem full of vivid, jumbled images that made no sense by themselves.

He murmured something about "the beginning," just as he'd thrust every bit of his big cock into her, looking down at her instead of moving like something starved for this primal kind of contact, telling her, "This used to hurt you so bad." And he watched her face, like searching for any sign that it still did.

Joss had nodded, "Yes," she'd answered, for it was the truth, and Tig wasn't without a touch of sadism that regularly found a way into the sex they had, though it was never anything flamboyant; biting her until she winced or squealed, denying her a breath when she was in dire need of one, or touching her in the place so raw with overtaxed nerves that she was sure the sensation would break her. But that hadn't been why he'd asked about hurting her, pinning her hands against the mattress as he did slowly begin to move, so purposeful in the way he ensured his big cock would be in constant contact along her G-spot, prodding and coaxing it to the shamelessly responsive swelled mass he wanted it to be.

"Now?" he'd asked, though it had been hard for him speak, dissolving into the same sweet friction that Joss had already been swept away by, her breathing too hard and heavy to answer him, at least with words. It didn't matter, because even the words that Tig had said didn't mean what they seemed to; yes, sex used to hurt, he was something so much bigger and harder and more difficult to take than most other men, but that was years ago, and Joss could more than handle it all now; it was the best thing she'd ever felt, they fit together, had become the place within the other that felt good. They'd come so far from where they'd started out together, and it had very little to do with the words Tig used to say so.

Other hushed wishes were uttered in the form of "stay," and "come," a sporadic, passionate rambling of how he wanted her with him, and that he also wanted her to go wherever he went, the two words quickly followed by "Mine!" which of course, needed no interpretation at all.

"Never…" it had been something he'd said numerous times, "never" a hot whisper that bore out its meaning in the way his arms would come around her and hold Joss so tightly that the very last bit of air in her lungs was forced out of her, "never," yes, she'd never leave him, she'd always be his, and he would always be hers.

But bodies demanded more than only words could satisfy, the already thrumming pace of what they were feeling becoming fuel for what was slowly building and intensifying, ready to blow them both apart, but bind them tighter than could ever be undone. "Tell me you love me," a familiar and frenzied undertone to what coursed through them both, Tig saying it again and again, no matter how many times Joss answered or how loudly she said it, his request met by her response some uncountable number of times, before the physicality of it all erupted in the most breathtaking and quieting of fashions.

The whole ordeal had been one of the most obfuscating and beautiful experiences they'd ever shared, a jumbled twist of seemingly meaningless jabber coupled with the most needful giving and taking of physical adoration that either of them had likely ever known with anyone else. If Joss hadn't known that all Tig had taken that morning had been aspirins, she'd have sworn he was high or drunk. But then, maybe he was?

And then it had been back to work…Tig to the garage, Joss to the office…and for a good hour afterwards, each time they passed by one another, each looked at the other like this was a strange place of have ended up after…afterwards. Tig was Tig again by the time they'd arrived back at the garage, and she wasn't surprised to see how he was now trying to ignore what they'd just done, and felt. Bobby had dubbed Joss "the miracle worker," stating that he wasn't sure what she'd done, but she must have done it well. But it wasn't her…at least, not alone.

And she was so hungry now, 'miracles' took a lot out of her apparently. Joss couldn't help but laugh then, sitting there alone at Gemma's desk, trying to reconcile checks with finished repair orders and make sure the totals matched up before she put everything together in the bank bag the armored truck would come for soon. But she couldn't concentrate on that right now, not with what happened in the old dorm earlier today and how it felt replaying constantly in her mind, or with the way her stomach was growling either. Well, there was the vending machine in the area where customers could sit and wait for their vehicles, and it was just as frequented by everyone who worked here as well…but unlike the waiting customers and everyone who worked here, Joss never had her own money. Another little thing about being property that sometimes did get in the way of things. Even any salary she drew from working at the garage this week was Tig's, not hers. Since the inception of MC's, the old lady was sent out to make money for the club, or one particular member, usually in the form of prostitution or strip joints. Being given a property patch wasn't going to change that, it only enforced it more, even though she knew Tig was way too crazily possessive to ever put her on a street corner or have her serving drinks in some topless bar. But, any kind of revenue she did somehow generate would always be his, and never hers, and she'd known that. She wasn't actually bothered too much by it because Tig always took care of her, and there was a lot of pride built into that for a man within the confines of an MC too, showing that he could provide for his old lady…but there were times, like when she was in this inconsequential kind of situation, when it really did suck. She just needed fifty cents, but she had to ask Tig for it, and he was working…she'd have to go and interrupt him for two measly quarters.

Well, there was that case of filters that had come after lunch, she could take them out to the oil change station, even though Juice had told her not to worry about trying to lift or carry the box, that he'd get it before the day was over. But, at least if it looked like she had some purpose for going out into the garage, and then just sort of "happened upon" Tig, it wasn't running out there like some spoiled brat and asking for money. Not that he'd mind, he did always take care of her, even if he did bitch and moan about having to stop what he was doing first. Joss's stomach growled again; she sighed, might as well get this over with.

The box of oil filters wasn't really as heavy as she'd expected it to be, but it was cumbersome, wider than her arms could stretch around it, which made walking with it difficult, and by the time she'd made it through the bay door with it, 'big brother' Jax was all over the situation, yelling, "Hey!" like she was on fire or something and rushing over to take the box from her, the way he'd yelled made everyone look at her. Great, now she'd have to ask Tig for money with an audience, but she smiled at Jax and politely thanked him anyway.

Tig, who was across the bay from her, wiping his blackened hands on a blackened rag was on his way over to her now, which Joss was glad to see, and a little surprised even, but then she remembered, he was still under the impression that she hated Jax. But, she didn't really hate Jax, just what he was he doing, but she knew Tig wasn't about to split hairs on that one, and now he was standing there next to her, looking on at Jax with her, as if 'Team Trager' were about to shout some big "we don't like you!" at him. Team Trager? Great, there she was, fucking up with Tig's last name again! Oh well, at least this time it wasn't on paper.

"What the hell are you bringing that in here yourself for?" Tig asked as they watched Jax squaring away the box over in the corner. Tig looked a bit flustered with her, like she'd just mopped the floor for their maid or something.

"Well, I just figured you all had enough to do today." She smiled, noticing that he stood a little closer to her than he normally would have with everyone around like this. Hmm…was that because of Jax, or something else?

She heard Clay chuckle behind her. "Joss, I'm gonna miss you next week!" He laughed.

She turned towards him, smiling also, but feeling a little melancholy that tomorrow was Friday…there was no more job after that. She still knew next to nothing about automotive repair, and hearing all the useless information she heard from the public was annoying, but she did like it here, around the garage, around the Tig's brothers, and around Tig! "I'll come back any time you need me, though." Joss promised, but then immediately remembered she wasn't who could offer that. She looked up at Tig. "If that's okay."

A smile crossed Tig's face, either because he liked the thought of that, or because she'd managed the save she had, and then she noticed that Clay was even looking to Tig, waiting for an answer, and that had given Joss so much hope of maybe one day returning. Tig nodded at her, then turned to Clay. "Yeah, no offense of any kind to Gemma, ever, it'll be good to have her back, but Joss fits in real good here."

"That she does," agreed Clay, and there were more than a few affirmative words and nods from everyone else, but the only thing that Joss cared about was what Tig had said, she "fit in real good." He liked working with her!

Joss was smiling broadly now, so distracted that it didn't occur to her that she was now standing around with no particular purpose, and had to think to remember why it was she'd ever wrestled the case of oil filters out here to begin with. But, there was something she had to say first to someone. She eased a little closer to Tig. "Thank you!" She said quietly, but hoping it wasn't freaking him out to look like this with her in front of everyone, after all, he'd sort of started it.

"You will," he half whispered back with a crooked grin. "Later."

She laughed a little and didn't hesitate as Tig reached out and kind of pushed her away a little with back of his hand, maybe having had his limit of this advertised intimacy between them. It was okay, she was busy. "I need to get back to the bank deposit," she told him, so he wouldn't have to feel like he'd ended something that she wanted to continue, though she'd never complain about being close to him. "But, can I have—"

"What?" there was that crooked grin again, like he expected her to ask him for something that he'd have to give her over there in his old dorm again.

"It's nothing like that, you bad thing!" She giggled and swatted at him.

"Then I don't have it then." He grinned back at her, dodging her attempt to smack at him, and shoving his black, greasy hands at her with intentions of wiping them off on her. Joss gave a laughing scream and jumped back from his dirty hands, Tig coming after her, but then stopping dead as he realized they were sort of…playing around…and everyone could see it. But there was no saving face in trying to just sweep it under the rug at this point. He dropped his mischief, but let his smile fade slowly as he looked at her, throwing the dirty rag over his shoulder. "Whattya want, Joss?"

"Fifty cents." She replied, feeling stupid about asking now…first Jax got everyone's attention, and then Tig got acting all goofy and did it again.

"Why?" He was still kind of smiling, obviously not done messing with her, which was surprising given that it wasn't only Clay around. Hmm…maybe that emotional romp earlier today hadn't quite burned off for him yet either.

"Um, I was going to get something from the machine." Joss answered, like she had to think about the answer, but then realized that she did, because she hadn't noticed that the flatbed had driven onto the lot until she'd heard the familiar 'boom' of it unloading a vehicle on the other side of the garage, nearest to the customer waiting area that adjoined the office. Because Opie was often times so close to where she was working, with only a cinderblock wall and a window between them, Joss had become so conditioned to tense up and be alert whenever she'd saw that truck, or heard that noise…but it was okay, she was with Tig this time.

Tig of course took no notice of the flatbed. "What are you getting?"

"A one hundred calorie pack of little whole wheat crackers." But as soon as she'd said that, Tig had groaned. Oh no…she'd let the vegetarian cat out of the bag again.

"No you're not." He said shaking his head, then began to take a step, beckoning to her as he did. "C'mon, let's get you real food."

Chapter 33; Part 2

Beef Jerky! Of course…what else would Tig have chosen for her? He handed it to her after it fell from the little metal rings that held it within the vending machine and smiled as he did; looking satisfied that he'd thought of it, and that she'd have to eat it too. This wasn't fair…Joss stared longingly at the little bag of healthy, vegetarian snack crackers…she'd been too distracted by Opie's voice when Tig was making her selection to argue with him, not that it would have mattered anyway. The window in the customer waiting area was open, and Opie was out there, talking to someone about something that in no way involved her, or Tig, but still, Joss was straining to hear every word, just to be sure.

"There," Tig said to her, then began to walk outside again, Joss hurriedly going with him, because she'd heard Opie's conversation end too, and he was likely going to be driving back around the office now and heading out once more. Joss didn't want to not be with Tig when that happened if she wasn't protected by the walls of the office. "That's better for you," Tig smiled like he'd just done her a big favor.

Joss sighed. "It's not better for the poor animal it came from." She said, trying to forget Opie and looking at the package of jerky. There was a little silhouette of a running ostrich on the bottom of it. "Eeeeew, Tig, there's ostrich meat in this!"

"You'll like it," He insisted. "It's like a big chicken, don't worry about it."

"I don't eat chickens either!" Joss replied, hearing footsteps now, someone going into the place she and Tig had just left, and she didn't have to look behind her to know who it was. Tig, who said nothing, had reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her closer and turning them both around so that he was now in between her and Opie, but Opie hadn't even looked at them, just disappeared into the customer waiting area. Oh well, the vending machine was in there, and Joss couldn't blame him for getting hungry. She took a deep breath, looked at the beef jerky then at Tig again, noticing that she now had marks from Tig's dirty, black fingers on her skin. "I don't believe you're making me eat an ostrich!"

"Why do you have to go and make it sound weirder than it is?" He sighed back. "Jesus Christ, Joss, I just want you to eat something that'll put a little hair on your balls; it works for me!"

"So I've noticed," she laughed now, though she really was still very opposed to this whole ostrich idea. "But that wasn't actually an attribute I was looking to develop for myself." Footsteps again, out of the customer waiting area and then into the office, distracting both she and Tig, who again reached out and had a hand on her as he turned his upper body towards where Opie had gone into the office, holding his position until Opie had come out again just a few seconds later, sticking two pens into the pocket of his garage shirt now and giving Tig that MC nod again, Tig returning it, but this time Joss noticed that Opie's eyes never fell on her. In fact, he didn't acknowledge her at all. Good! Opie was heading back around the building now to get into the flatbed and head out again. Whoa, that had been close…or so it felt. But Tig had been there for her, shielding her, not letting anything happen to her. She looked up at him and smiled as he turned back around to her. "Is it always going to be like this?"

The flatbed's engine turned over and the truck roared to life again, appearing from out behind the building and driving away, no looks back from the driver, but Tig kept his eye on it until it was passed the garage. "I don't know," he said still half watching the truck. "That depends on him."

Joss smiled again, shoving the dead ostrich into her pocket and drawing even closer to Tig. "That's not what I meant." She said softly, her grateful smile indicating how he'd stepped up to protect her, just incase.

The beef jerky disagreement evaporated, Tig looking down at her and reaching out like he was going to take her under the chin and lift her eyes up to look into his like he did whenever he had something important he wanted her to understand, but he remembered how filthy his hands were, stopping a moment to furiously wipe them on his jeans, then catching her under the chin. "I'm not going to let anyone hurt you, Joss. You've had a lot of shit happen to you that you never deserved, and if anyone so much as makes a tear appear in your eyes, they're mine." His voice grew dark as he ended his sentence, and she thought that was the end of what he was saying, but then he'd pulled her even closer with his other hand at her waist, looking at her with such faithful viciousness electrifying his stunning blue eyes, and this reaction came from only a hypothetical threat that hadn't even been named. "I may not be willing to die for you, baby, but that's only because I'm damn sure willing to kill for you, and that makes a hell of a lot more sense."

Wow! Joss knew he'd kissed after that promise, a quick kind of closed mouth thing, but it had felt like so much more after what he'd said…within earshot of everyone around them. Nope…what happened in the dorm earlier was still happening, but Tig was in control of it now, owning it. She was kind of surprised to find herself back in the office again, that feeling of it being such a strange place to go back to after yet another moment with Tig replaying all over again today. No one had ever loved her like he did; loved her so damn much, it scared him to even say so. Wow…what time was it? When could they go home…and go to bed? Alright, just get it together, there was the bank deposit still, and that armored car would be here soon. Oh, but maybe she'd better check herself in the little compact mirror Gemma kept in the middle tray drawer with the pens and pencils; Tig's hands were dirty, and Joss might have had her own black goatee going on right now.

She went to the desk, reaching down for the middle drawer, the stick of dead ostrich bending in her pocket as she did so, and she pulled it out, throwing it on the desk and rolling her eyes, but that's when she noticed there was a folded up neon yellow sticky note stuck to the top of the pile of checks she'd been working on when she left the office. What was that? Had Juice come by looking for the box of oil filters and was asking where they were in a little note? Or was it…Joss's hand shook as she reached out and peeled the sticky note from the stack of checks, unfolding it as her heart pounded. The handwriting was foreign to her, but more than legible. "Check the first aid kit."

What? Were they out of something? Had Bobby for some reason replaced the aspirins she'd given Tig this morning? What kind of instructions were those? With the note in one hand still, Joss went over to the filing cabinet again, pulling open that top drawer, expecting another neon yellow sticky note to be awaiting her there, but it wasn't. Instead, laying there on the top of the old toolbox, where all the band-aids were kept, was a little package of one hundred calorie whole wheat snack crackers.


	35. New Friends, Old Scars

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 35

"I thought you wanted to go meet the new girls?" What was with Joss tonight? She was sort of stuck to him, went where he went, looked where he looked, didn't speak at all unless he spoke to her, or one of his brothers, like Clay, that she knew very well, spoke to her. But she wasn't her usual self who had some catching up to do with everyone, and was barely able to wait for his approval before she began to speak to someone…which was always everyone…Joss could work a room. But tonight, nope, she was just standing back here against the wall with him, closed up and closed off to everything around her. She'd seemed maybe like she wasn't feeling her best when he'd gone back to the house to pick her up after 'church' and return to the clubhouse with her for the party. He'd waited outside on the bike, having revved the throttle to let her know he was there, but Joss hadn't come out. That had worried him, and pissed him off a little, and he'd gone into the house, shouting her name like they were late for something, which they were, only to find her laying on the couch under a blanket, looking lethargic and distressed.

"What the hell are you doing?" It wasn't the most sensitive of questions asked in the most sensitive of ways, despite Joss's oddly reticent demeanor, but Tig wanted to get back to the clubhouse, with her.

"I fell asleep." She'd answered, sitting up and pulling her boots on, and she seemed like she was moving at half the pace she usually did with everything. And she wasn't dressed right either…well, when compared to how she usually dressed for a party. Not that she didn't look good, because Joss looked good in everything, but skinny jeans and a SAMCRO t-shirt was so ordinary, nothing about that stood out…except for her make-up of course, and her hair…and the girl's tits were always prominent in whatever she wore, but still…Tig had expected more. She liked "dressing up" for these things…so why didn't she?

"You sick?" He was concerned about that, didn't want her to be feeling badly in anyway, but Tig could only manage to ask that question in a more accusatory way than a troubled one.

"No," she'd sort of whined irritably at him. "It's just working all day during the week, and fucking you all night, and still having the house and the laundry and the cooking and the shopping…and now there's the party."

"Joss, don't!" There was just something about that tone of voice when a woman took it and started complaining about the stuff Joss had started to complain about. It just irked him to no end, made the hair bristle on the back of his neck…his marriage…talk like that had been the very first sign of trouble. "You mean a hell of a lot to me, baby, but if you wanna talk that shit, take it to Jax's doctor bitch, because you're going to drive me fucking insane, you get me?"

"Yes!" Joss didn't yell, or raise her voice that much, but she did roll her eyes at him as she nodded her head.

That's when he should have belted her…any other man, who was a man, would have…the bottom had just dropped right out of her attitude…but once again, Tig failed to step up the way he was supposed to with her. But he knew why he hadn't, and even before the "L" word had escaped within the confines of his head, he'd always known he'd never hit Joss. Besides, by the time they'd gotten out of the house and climbed onto his bike, she was laying her head on his back and telling him she was sorry, sounding so sad and so ashamed. What the fuck? He knew she wasn't PMS-ing, Joss couldn't do that, and that had also been one of the biggest selling points of this relationship. But something was with her tonight…she'd gone from being mysteriously bitchy to being mysteriously clingy…only without touching him, because she knew he hated that, particularly around large groups.

She stood beside him now looking over at where Juice stood with his arm around his Lauren, talking with Happy and his Lauren whom he'd also pulled close to him, Joss watching the two couples, laughing and smiling, looking on in a way that Tig knew Joss really wanted to go over there and make some new friends…but she didn't move to ask him if she could, only took a gander around the clubhouse at everyone who was in there. "They look busy." She said to him instead.

He'd been on the verge of ordering her to go over to Lauren and Lauren now and make her introduce herself and start talking with them, because Tig knew she wanted to, she'd helped Happy plan a whole evening with his Lauren, down to flowers and cologne he should wear, which turned Tig's stomach so much he'd gotten up and walked away. But when he'd returned to the table, Joss was at Happy for other details about his woman…what did she like to do? Oh, she had tattoos, of what? She worked a winery? She was part Native American? Wow, what tribe? Where did she like to shop? Have lunch? What kind of movies did she like? It was as if Joss already had some 'girl date' planned with someone she'd yet to even meet.

And then the next day, all she'd talked about at lunch with Juice was did his Lauren ride western or english, what kind of horses did she have, did she show them…if not for how excited and happy it made Joss to even talk about these things, Tig would have been on her to shut the fuck up…but he'd let her go, knowing the idea of having girlfriends to hang with was something she'd never been allowed before, and when it came to horses…well, he let her be lost in a world he hadn't realized she'd missed so much until then. But then, how could he have not figured that out? He knew she liked to ride, he knew she was pretty damn good at it too, there was a whole wall of her former bedroom with nothing but pictures of her on horses, along with ribbons and trophies, and in everyone of those pictures of her, on the myriad of horses she was sitting atop of, Joss had the biggest, most honest smile on her face…horses had made her happy, despite the shithole father she had and the secrets she lived with. No wonder the girl didn't eat meat and didn't like to think of an animal having to die to provide it; it was likely that deep seeded connection she had with horses.

Tig had thought about connecting with horses a time or two himself, but not quite the same way…okay, no horses…he didn't need another cow situation tonight on top of everything Joss was going through for whatever reason she was going through it. Mooooo! Fuck! Cows! Go away cows…why the hell didn't they just stay in Capistrano? It wasn't some unbreakable attraction to them on his part that kept letting them slip back into and take over his thoughts, but it was more the fact that he'd gotten caught with them…and arrested…like the cows somehow got even on him…and Tig just couldn't get over that…after all the shit he'd done and gotten away with, a farm animal took him down! E, I, E, I, Ohhh fuck no! Damn! Too bad that beef jerky in the garage vending machine was actually ostrich…because he'd have been eatin' the hell out of that tonight!

But then beside him Joss suddenly sighed forlornly and laid her head against his arm, the cows, and the hold they had over him, dissipating. She was looking over at the Laurens again…man, she really did want to go over there, but something just wouldn't let her. She'd been a little shy and short tempered ever since Thursday afternoon, and even at work today it was like she didn't want to be alone in the office, and she'd come out into the garage, looking for him, to just stand there next to him for what seemed like no reason…and then she'd ask him to walk back to the office with her…he wasn't sure what was wrong with her then, or now, but it was the same thing, whatever it was. His concern for her was growing more and more, and it was making him anxious to think that his Joss, his sweet, dark, perfect little angel, was suffering something that she wasn't telling him about, and it was all twisting around inside him and beginning to turn to anger. He should just fucking order to go over there and start introducing herself to the Laurens, but what if something really was wrong with her? He held off on that order, trying to feel her out instead. "Okay, Joss. What's wrong? And don't say 'nothing,' because I know something is!"

But Joss wasn't herself, if she was, she'd have never have narrowed her eyes at him. "You have days when you don't want to talk to anybody, or be around anyone, why can't I?" She'd quickly asked him, scowling a bit more, but not for very long when she remembered they were in public, and certain things were more than just expected of her.

But that was it though, he hadn't busted her up for that first little retort of hers tonight, but now…Tig moved in front of her, and almost in the same motion, he'd slammed her into the wall behind her, using only one hand, not wanting to do more than startle her, and remind her of what his prerogative truly was when she mouthed off like that, but he didn't really want to hurt her…he'd never hurt her. It had worked though, Joss gasping even before her back hit the wall, fear in her eyes after she did, nearly falling over, and would have if not for Tig grabbing her by her patch and yanking her back onto her feet again. He leaned over her, "Now stop it!" He yelled against the noise of voices and loud music. Jesus fucking Christ…what was going on? They'd been so good together the past few days, a lot of…emotional stuff going both ways between them…even though it all still did give Tig chills to think about. But, they'd been so…close…what had happened to that? And how did he get it back? He'd much rather have been showing her off and making a demonstration of the way she trusted him then he wanted to be shoving her into walls and yelling at her.

His patience and tolerance may have both been a little less tonight to begin with…the club was getting closer and closer to ending this whole Mayan/ATF cooperation thing, and that would be going down soon…a check on some of the immigration status on a few Mayans had revealed that the records had been mysteriously sealed by ATF, and Juice's hacking skills were able to get those records sent to ICE…it was all coming together…digging a hole for the Mayans and creating intergovernmental dysfunction. It wouldn't be long now…Stahl would be stalled…and Tig was anxious, dying to just start beating the shit out of someone…this "sit and wait" shit never having been something he was good at…he was cagey, which made dealing with Joss's snippiness nearly impossible without being reactive and combative. But fuck…taking it out on her wasn't what he'd wanted to do either…"Joss—" but she spoke before he could finish, maybe because he'd scared her so badly that now she was ready to tell him everything.

"I'm sorry," she said for a second time in less than an hour, only this time he could tell it had really gotten to her, that she'd realized how much she'd screwed up and how lenient he was actually being given not only that she was his property, but also that Tig was who he was. One more time he watched her start from one corner of the clubhouse and do some kind of scan of the crowd like she was hoping to not see someone. "I just don't want to be alone here tonight, okay?"

Fuck! Now it all made sense! Jax! She didn't want to end up having to talk to or even see Jax! Jesus fucking Christ…Tig knew he could be such a clueless asshole sometimes, the proof of that had been laid before him many times and in many ways…some ways much more tragic and hurtful than others...and Tig had been on his way there again…just not as grand a scale, but getting frustrated with Joss, slamming her into a wall without trying to make sense of what she was doing, why she might be doing it…why he'd left his cell in the pocket of his cut on the back of his bike…why the driver of that pick-up truck hadn't been savvy enough to look back when a gangster SUV pulled up behind him so close…No! Holy fucking God…it wasn't too long ago that Tig had finally been able to get through the day without those thoughts slamming him up against a wall…it wasn't that he'd forgotten what had happened, what he'd done, he never would, never…but why was it back like this all of sudden?

Joss…hurting her scorched his soul even more than…what he'd done that night, and it was hard to believe that anything could. Joss…dark and sweet and perfect…his angel…she'd been the only reason he hadn't put a gun in his mouth, even though at the time, he'd never imagined that one day she'd be wearing his patch; he knew he loved her even then, it was just buried a lot deeper than it was now. She still had no idea just what she'd gotten him through, or how she'd been there for him, that having been the only time Tig had gone searching for her, restless and depressed and unstable until he'd found her…stole her away from "The Free Souls," held her "captive" in a cabin in the mountains that he'd broken into, spending two nights with her instead of just some quick alleyway fuck. He didn't understand why she'd been such a source of comfort then, but he did now. But if he wasn't careful, and didn't learn some God damn fucking thing from that gruesome night of the most monstrous of mistakes, he was going to end up doing it all over again…only this time, Joss would be driving that pick-up truck. Jesus, wasn't that dream about hitting her with the crescent wrench warning enough to him? Just how fucking close to hurting her did he have to come before he realized what was happening here?

And then he realized that he was hugging Joss to him, more than tightly, pressing her into him like he somehow meant to tuck her inside his chest and keep her safe there forever. "It's okay, baby," he was whispering to her, his hand on the back of her head, fingers grasping desperately at her silken, black tresses. "You remember what I told you yesterday about not letting anyone hurt you?" He felt Joss nod against his chest, not able to talk because of the way he was holding her to him, but he wasn't about to let go of her. "That means me too."

Chapter 35; Part 2

Tig wasn't much on new people, Joss knew he'd much rather stand over there and be the "dark one" in the corner that people talked about instead of to. And that's just what was happening now, her standing in between the two Laurens, Happy and Juice on either side of their respective girl, all of them talking and laughing, Joss able to do so now thanks to Tig, who kept her under his watchful eye as he drank a beer with Clay and Bobby. The slam into the wall had actually been a good thing, it had lead to some more awesome words from Tig. He wouldn't let anything happen to her, she knew that, he loved her, and she knew that too. And Opie…well…yeah, he was here, but he was on the other side of the room with Jax and Chibs and a bunch of half dressed women that Joss hoped would interest him more than she for some reason did.

Opie…those crackers had made her last hour of work on Thursday hell, and did the same for her on Friday…and then she knew she'd be coming here tonight, where once again, she'd have to be on the lookout. There was no roaring engine of a flatbed warning her as to his whereabouts in here tonight...that scared her, so afraid she'd turn a corner, and there he'd be, another one hundred calorie pack of snack crackers in his hand for her. It made no sense, none of it…Opie wasn't doing anything that was "anything" offensive…nothing…a bottle of water, a band-aid, an admiring glance, and a pack of crackers. That in its own way was actually less than what Tig's other brothers did and said to her…Jax mussing up her hair and calling her "Living Dead Girl," Chibs at the ready to put himself between her and an angry customer on the phone, Bobby trying to physically keep her from going after Tig the morning he'd gone a little further off the deep end than usual…on paper, what Opie was doing didn't even compare. But it didn't feel that way…those crackers scared the shit out of her! It was such a stupid thing to be afraid of, or to have made her really not want to come tonight…but she hadn't wanted to come, didn't want to be here now really, but…she did believe Tig when he'd said he wouldn't let anyone hurt her…but if she opened her mouth about the various Opie antics…Tig would end up killing Opie over a pack of crackers, and that wouldn't sit well with the club…or end well for Tig. Nope, she was going to have to suck it up, enjoy the party, and figure this out herself.

"I was at this concert at a bike rally," Happy's Lauren was saying, in response to Joss's question about how they met one another. She looked so thrilled to be standing there with Happy, his arm around her waist… she looked like she worked out, her frame was solid in all the right places, not at all too big or fat, but not the emaciated model look that Gemma sometimes hinted Joss was in danger of sporting, if she "didn't eat more,"…hmm, did Gemma know she was vegetarian? Maybe she and Lauren could work out together? Lauren wasn't at first glance the kind of girl that Joss would have imagined being with Happy, she had a sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her nose and her cheeks, with a cute mop of dark curls and bronze skin, but something about the way she smiled made it clear why Happy couldn't resist her, and why they looked so natural together. But Joss envied her eyes the most…as blue as Tig's, wow, were they related? Only Lauren's eyes were almond shaped, and that sexy, exotic contour of them was natural! Joss had to layer on metallic black eyeliner, pulling it out into wings at the outer corners of her eyes, and then let lash extending mascara complete the look in order to replicate that cat-like look. Some things in life just weren't fair!

It was obvious that Happy thought Lauren was a real prize too, looking down at her as she told this story, hanging on every word, smiling, nodding his head, couldn't have been more tuned into her. It made Joss smile; she had that with Tig too, around certain people anyway, only it was much harder to win that attention from him. But Lauren's happy, bubbly personality was too hard to ignore, and Joss too was tuned into her story. "And I saw this big, shaved headed guy, with 'tough' written all over him…except for a few little smiley faces…" she giggled, pointing to Happy's tattoos as they giggled together now. "And he was a little drunk, but getting a tattoo, but he was telling the guy he wanted the head of this roaring, snarling, about to bite your face off, grizzly bear. Only, he wanted it the same size as the little smiley faces, and the guy was all like, 'I can't do that, man,' and Happy was all, 'just fuckin' do it' and so I stepped up to him and said, 'Hey, you make that grizzly bear the size you're asking for, and it's going to look like an angry gerbil!'"

Everyone began to laugh, Happy a little less so than everyone else, but Joss hadn't expected anything different from him. He just pulled his Lauren even closer and kissed her on the top of her curly, dark hair. "You gotta love a girl who stops you from gettin' a bad tattoo!" He said proudly, rubbing her back with his hand now. Lauren looked up at him with that vivacious smile of hers, making Happy kiss her then and there. "That's what a good woman does," he said, looking at Juice and Joss, and then a little at Juice's Lauren. "Keeps our asses in line, no matter how much we're going to bitch at you about it."

"Isn't that the truth," Joss sighed, comically as she glanced over towards Tig, and everyone laughed again. She turned to Juice's Lauren, the one with the horses, whom she was eager to get to know better, despite that this Lauren seemed like, and was, more new to the whole MC culture. When Joss had finally approached this little group of couples, she'd greeted Happy and Juice with a hug, and then introduced herself to their Laurens in the manner she was supposed to, saying, "Hi, I'm Tig's, my name is Joss." Happy's Lauren hadn't completely understood what that meant, but she'd nodded and shook Joss's hand, but Juice's Lauren had furrowed her brow in confusion that it seemed that Joss had just said she'd had two names, "Tiggs" and then "Joss."

That Lauren had looked over at Juice, who smiled at her sweetly and then pointed across the room to Tig. "No, gorgeous," he'd laughed. "That's Tig over there, he owns Joss. On the back of that vest she's got on, is his patch, it means she's his, that she's special enough to him that he's put his mark on her."

The way Juice had explained it made Joss smile, though she could still see that his Lauren was surprised by words like "owns" and "mark." Hmm…maybe she, being property, Joss wasn't the best "first" person for Juice's Lauren to meet…being patched was everything to Joss, but she was an outsider once herself, and she understood how shocking this all likely sounded to someone new. She sighed though, looked at Juice's girl and prayed that she wouldn't turn out to be another Tara. Tara…what was she going to do about that situation? But, she couldn't think about that now, there was way too much to watch out for tonight. Besides, Tara wasn't even here with Jax tonight…big surprise. She looked at Juice's Lauren again, the way he stood there, smiling at her like he couldn't imagine being with a more beautiful girl, his arm around her shoulders and rubbing her upper arm softly. Again Joss smiled, she had that with Tig too, and he was surprisingly getting better about showing affection for her around other people.

"So Juice says you ride?" Said the girl Juice had his arm around, looking at Joss excitedly, which gave her so much hope that perhaps Lauren was looking for a riding buddy. Lauren must have looked good on a horse; she just had that kind of build to her. Joss had never felt overly tall at five foot seven, but Lauren was barely more than five feet, could have benefitted from a higher heel than what was on her cowboy boots to boost her up a little, but damn, it was always those short girls that had the most natural and balanced seat in the saddle! It seemed that any time Joss felt herself landing on an angle from a jump, and sliding out of the saddle and onto the ground, there was some short girl, still on her horse, looking down at her saying, "Oh my God, are you okay? What happened? I took that fence the same way and it felt great!"

All jealousy aside, Joss smiled broadly at Lauren and nodded her head. "Yes!" She'd nearly shouted then toned it down. "Well, I used to…kinda haven't been able to in the last two years, but you know, in my mind, I will always ride." There…that hadn't sounded like a desperate plea for an invitation, had it?

"You should come over!" Lauren instantly smiled, and Joss had to stop the little kid in her from going wild. "I've got lots of trails around the farm! You can take my old guy, he's twenty-six, but still flashy." Lauren laughed, then turned towards Juice, smiling up at him as she gently traced the lightning bolt on the side of his head. "I'm sure you can't do worse than 'Flash' here did!" She laughed, making Juice sigh that beaten down, but happy kind of sigh Joss had come to associate with him.

"Aww! Juice, you go riding together?" Joss asked him, part of her not wanting to even imagine Tig around horses…

Juice smiled, bent down and brushed Lauren's dark brown hair behind her ear, then kissed her, but careful not to smudge her impossibly perfect make-up, so perfect, it was surprising to think of her being around barns and horses. "Go ahead, I know you want to tell her how that went…" Juice sighed again, the same way as before.

"Well," Lauren looked up at him smiling, then back at Joss. "It's kind of like this: nothing makes him laugh harder than me trying to start his bike, and nothing makes me laugh harder than him on a horse!" She laughed, and so did Joss. "He can't steer…and it's so funny…" Lauren was laughing, with Juice. "I tried to teach him, to tell him to use his outside leg and inside rein, but…Juice is like dyslexic or something! We never got out of the arena ring, him on my old guy and me on my big Dutch gelding, Markus. Markus and I were just walking along in front of him, and I keep hearing Juice going, 'no, go that way…c'mon, please…look, go over there!'" Juice was really laughing now, so was Lauren. "I looked back, and he's actually pointing out to the horse which way he wants him to go!"

Wow, Lauren had a Dutch gelding? Oh yeah! She wasn't a weekend trail rider! She rode big time! That thought had occurred to her in a split second before she burst out laughing too, smiling at Juice because he was so adorable, without trying to be. "Don't be too hard on him," she smiled at Juice, then Lauren. "I mean, I can't even tell Tig he's putting his shirt on backwards without him growling it's my fault for being the biggest distraction ever in his life." Joss laughed, and could just imagine how well having to teach Tig anything might go over. She looked over at her man, wishing he'd come over so she could introduce him, but no, that wasn't happening…but that was okay, because Joss knew if she needed him, he'd be there in a heartbeat…she only hoped it wouldn't end in tragedy. She looked back at Lauren, both of them; well, she'd done it, she'd made two new girlfriends! Wow, it was a good thing Tig had made her come tonight, she'd have hated to miss out on this! And she soon realized with maybe more joy than she really deserved to feel, that among the three of them, she was the one with SAMCRO life seniority! "So," she said to both Laurens. "Has anyone shown you where the good lady's room is?"

Chapter 35; Part 3

Tig must have been so relieved that she was feeling better and back to being her gregarious self that he didn't have any opposition to her leading a parade over to the garage to show the new girls where the "good" bathroom was. Besides, it was still light out, and he and Clay had seemed to be having some in depth discussion about where to hide…something Joss was going to pretend she didn't hear anything about. Clay had given her the key and Tig had made her double check that she had her cellphone on her, told she knew what to do if "anything came up" and then kissed her quickly on the mouth. Joss had smiled, and kissed him back one more time the same way, but held it for a little longer…damn she loved that man, and she'd wanted her two new friends to see that too. It wasn't such a bad night after all…and then…

They'd gotten as far as the fence between the clubhouse and the garage, none of them in the mood to climb over it, so Joss showed them the place where the chain link had come unpinned from the vertical posts, holding open a little 'doorway' for them to crawl through the rusted, peeled up sections of the fence. Joss had glanced back to say something to Happy's Lauren, and immediately felt eyes on her. Opie stood only about ten feet away, walking casually after them, hardly at any kind of malicious or pursuit pace, but he was looking at Joss, and only Joss, giving her a smile and then a nod. All of a sudden, he began to run towards her, standing beside her in no time, and grabbing the section of chain link fence Joss had been holding for Happy's Lauren to crawl through.

"Let me get that for you," he smiled, but Joss only stood there, looking back at him, knowing that it was too late to call Tig…and that even if she did…where would it go? She wouldn't be doing her man any favors, and that was for sure. This was her problem, she was on her own.

It was odd, but standing here, face to face with Opie who had been causing her such fear and anxiety, Joss wasn't struck with the feeling of blood draining from her face and surging through her veins, making her dizzy and weak and terrified. No, she was angry…very angry. He'd put her in some more than difficult situations, gladly took a savage beating that Tig now had no right to repeat, therefore paralyzing the only protection he knew she'd have against his onslaught of inappropriate benevolence. He'd turned her into a prisoner at the garage on her very last day of work, and tonight, he'd been the reason for the attitude that had made Tig shove her into the wall. If Opie kept up this shit, he was going to drive her and Tig apart…but "property" was only cast off in one way. Joss wouldn't lose Tig, and it didn't matter how, she wouldn't be without him whether or not it was by Tig executing Opie over menial things, that would lead to his own eventual execution, or because Tig was suddenly faced with no other option but to kill her. Tig was hers, she loved him more than anything, and she'd fight for him. What she had with him was nowhere near perfect, or normal, but how fucking dare Opie try to destroy it! She'd had enough, and there was no one who could make this stop except for her!

She turned to the Laurens, giving Happy's Lauren the lady's room key. "Go on, I'll be over in a sec." She said, knowing that neither of her two new friends were versed enough in MC life to understand how wrong Joss staying back to talk to Opie was, but it was…it was! The girls, who thought nothing of it, said their "okays" and went on their way, leaving Joss alone with Opie…to make him stop what he was doing, or make him follow through with it!


	36. Piece Talks

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 36

Joss waited until Lauren and Lauren were out of earshot, and so had Opie, further confirming it had been her he'd wanted, standing there beside her in silence until both of the girls were well across the garage lot. Then he'd looked down at her, like there was nothing out of place in any of this.

"How's the finger?" He asked, and even though there was nothing threatening in his demeanor, there was a little twist of something in his words, some strange inference of something private he was trying to remind her that they'd shared.

One of the clubs that Joss had been owned by used to fight their hangarounds and sometimes old ladies too, sort of like how some assholes fought dogs; there was betting along with punishments for the losers. Joss had only avoided being thrown into the ring because she was "one of the pretty ones," and was more valuable luring in men and money on the street than she was fighting another girl. She'd always been grateful for that, but right now, she felt every bit ready to climb into that ring! She looked up at Opie, thinking of Tig, and feeling stronger than she'd ever felt. "Shut up!"

Opie laughed a little, but stood un-moveable. "Sounds like you're talking to me now."

"Don't get used to it." She answered, her eyes narrowing. "What's with you? That's all I want to fucking know."

"Maybe I'm tired of watching Trager shred up little girls like you and eat them on top of his cereal," Opie's tone was amped up now, but it still didn't match her own viciousness, but he was leaning over a little more, accentuating the fact that she was in no way a physical match for him, or possibly even Tig should something be witnessed and reported back to her man now. Being caught alone with Opie, whom she had no permission to be talking to, was an even graver offense than having written "TRGR" behind her first initial.

But Joss didn't care, she knew well what she was getting into the moment she'd decided to hang back and confront Opie. She was shaking her head, her blood passed boiling, just turning to steam in her veins. She was so fucking tired of everyone around her assuming they knew Tig better than she did, or understood what their relationship really was and really couldn't ever be, despite what impression Tig obviously had her under. And now here stood Opie, the knife that kept moving nearer and nearer to plunging through the heart of what she knew she had with Tig, telling her that it was all nothing anyway. Oh God damn it, she wanted to just grab that scraggily beard and rip his head off. "Assuming that you're correct, because I'm sure you're the utmost authority on everything Tig does and why he does it, why is that even any concern of yours?"

"I know what he does to people!" Opie nearly yelled that time. "I know first hand!" He was pointing to the stitches still in his face, but Joss had some odd sense that he'd been insinuating more than just the sutures. He paused long enough to take a deep breath, like he was trying to settle something inside him. "I was trying to look out for you, didn't want you to end up lying dead in the street some day."

"Bullshit!" Joss did know it when she heard it, she had been around. This guy was working something on her, or trying to, and she wouldn't give up until she figured it out. "Tig owns me, I'm his, and what he does with me, or to me, is his business, not yours. You don't have the right to be worried about something you don't own!"

"What are you, about nineteen? Eighteen?" Obviously he wasn't going to abandon this 'concerned citizen' bullshit. He may have been spouting 'concern,' but his eyes were mean and level. "You're too young to even have that patch on your back, you have no idea what could be out there for you, and now you never will."

"Then that's my problem, not yours!" Whatever he was trying to sway her towards, Joss wasn't going. Opie was just one more know-it-all, telling her Tig was a mistake.

"You don't even know what your problem is. You don't know what he's capable of taking away!" His voice was growing louder, but not so loud that anyone passing by might notice. He looked at Joss with some kind of hurt in his eyes that she hadn't expected to see, like he was pleading with her to believe him, and for a moment, she felt herself want to understand…which quickly snapped in two and made her angrier with him, and herself.

She didn't lose it, not quite, but she damn sure felt something slip, take her over for a moment, and she charged at Opie, hitting him in the chest with two balled up fists full of claws, screaming in a high pitched wail. "What do you want?"

Initially Opie was shocked to have her just come at him like that, from out of nowhere, but then when Joss lost it, it just seemed to spring from nowhere…which was part of the reason she was so afraid of it. But before she'd been able to do any real damage to him, as if she could have through the black leather he wore, Opie had just stepped back from her, looked at her and started to laugh as if he knew something she didn't. "So that's it?" He smiled, like he was genuinely amused now and no longer caught off guard. "You really are a smart girl, aren't you Joss? Throw the first punch, so I'll have to defend myself, smack you around a little and then you have something to take back to Tig, which gives him every right to take me out, no questions asked?" Joss was quiet, too angry to talk, she just stood there, watching him chuckle again and hating him even more now than she did before. Opie just smiled and sighed at her though. "Not a bad plan; very self sacrificing too. But sorry, I'm smarter than that."

Joss heard herself growl and the rage inside her shook her body like she was going to lunge at him again, but this time, she stood still, glaring up at Opie, even more undaunted now than before, realizing she wouldn't win this, not tonight, but she would win...she'd end this…forever. "If Tig doesn't take you out, I will!"

Opie stiffened at her promise, looked at her daringly, but there was a petrifying element of fear in his stare that wasn't for himself. "Take it easy," he said to her in that serious, level tone of voice again, but then his eyes shifted downwards. "My fight's not even with you."

"Then why are you always fucking with me?" She demanded, a little more in control now, but no less infuriated, thinking for only the second time in her life how good it would feel to actually let herself slip under control of that dark madness, and let Opie face the crazed, slashing, biting thing he'd been prodding at for so long now. But it wouldn't have been what Joss wanted, and it wouldn't have ended things; Opie would be the only one with marks on him, and that was counter to the evidence she would need to present to Tig and the club…but Opie had been smart enough not to fall for that. Joss was trapped; there was nothing else she could do, not tonight. She didn't know how, she didn't know when…but eventually…this would be over. Opie was her problem, a problem she was unable to tell anyone about, just like her father had been.

Opie looked up at her; something in his expression was a little different. "Because there are a lot of guys out there who will treat you better than Tig will." He said; his eyes on hers, lingering there just a little too long, his voice still flatly serious and a little bit exasperated too. "And maybe I'm one of them."

Chapter 36; Part 2

Joss was a little more herself after she'd gone over to talk to the new girls, was exactly herself when she'd dragged them over to ask about going over to the lady's room at the garage…there had been a lot more to that request than what it was, and Tig knew it. She hadn't had to kiss him twice, or even bring her new little girlfriends over to where he was…nope, that had all been Joss's subtle way of saying to the Laurens, "Look what I've got!" It had made Tig smile a little; his Joss was showing him off! Hmm…first she wanted his body, then she apologized for not being expressive enough to him and now, she was showing him off…damn…there was just no diminishing, or slipping out of the hold of, this love thing now. Shit, did the "L" word just come forth effortlessly in his head? Well, why the fuck did he keep thinking about shit that was going to prompt its appearance anyway? C'mon…it didn't have to be every waking thought he had, did it? But it was getting to be…and it was even showing up in his dreams too…the other night, he'd dreamt he was playing 'she loves, she loves me not,' only instead of pulling the petals off of the traditional flower, he'd been throwing bologna on the ceiling, and if it stuck, then that was a "she loves me." Maybe that might have alarmed some people, but Tig chalked it up to his fucked up feelings, and his opposition and misgivings over Joss's vegetarianism. Damn that girl…she made him do all kinds of things…in all kinds of ways.

But some of them…well…he hadn't meant to interrupt her bath, but now was a much better time to soothe some of his own worries and also apologize to her for how the whole night had started out. Talking to the new girls had helped her mood immensely, but after they'd all returned to the clubhouse from the garage, something about Joss just was not relaxed, and Tig could only fathom that perhaps she'd been in pain, because of him. Joss's announcement that she was going to take a long, hot bath when they'd arrived home only confirmed his suspicions, and Tig knew he had to somehow make it up to her. She'd left the bathroom door into the bedroom open, so he knew she wouldn't mind if he stuck his head around the corner and said, "Hey," which he did.

She smiled at him but ceased to be just laying there enjoying the hot water, starting to move like she was going to get up. "Sorry, I'm done anyway." She said, reminding him of just how perfect she was; this was not the only bathroom in the house, but if she even thought he wanted her out of this one, she didn't ask why, she just vacated. Sometimes she may get a little snippy, but that wasn't who or what she was and Tig would do his best to remember that from now on.

He shook his head at her, striding over next to the tub and kneeling down. "No, you're cool, take as long as you want."

"Thanks," she smiled at him again, and laid back once more, looking relaxed amid all her green tea and ginger scented bubbles, her black and red hair twisted around itself and pinned up on top of her head, the red and black contrast looking sort of like some tie-dye design. Joss closed her lovely peridot eyes again, and looked like she really did need a long soak in the tub…and that's when Tig realized that he was going to have to make her move again.

"I'm sorry baby, but lean forward a minute," he said, touching the back of her shoulder lightly and then giving a gentle push.

"What?" She asked, a bit like she didn't want to move, but then she smiled as she drew her knees up and leaned her beautiful tits against her thighs. "You coming in?"

The thought was more than appealing, but Tig shook his head. "No, I don't wanna smell all flowery." He said, and he didn't…no one should be able to figure out that there was a woman in his life just by taking a whiff of him. He sighed then looked away from her, remembering. "I wanna see your back for a minute."

"I'm okay," Joss turned her head towards him and smiled warmly. "You did just what you had to, and nothing more than that."

Indeed, there wasn't a mark on her back, not even a little lump that had yet to bruise, and Tig then looked at the place where his hand had shoved her on her chest, but there was nothing there either. "Nothing hurts?" he asked as if he didn't believe his eyes.

"I'm fine," Joss laughed a little as his fingers gingerly walked down her spine, looking for something, anything, that might make her wince. "You wouldn't hurt me, Tig. Not that way, anyhow. I know that, even if you don't."

"Really?" Her faith and trust in him was more than amazing, it bordered on being fantasy. But Joss was nodding at him infallibly.

"Can't you trust me on something and then just go with it?" She laughed, but then her eyes closed and she moaned softly. "That feels good!" She said, and leaned more forward to give his fingers more of her back to press against and rub.

Tig smiled; somehow making her feel good while meaning to ensure he hadn't injured her before made his misplaced aggressiveness easier to let go of. He quickly pushed up the sleeves of his black t-shirt and got more up on his knees to give Joss more of what she said "felt good." It wasn't something he'd ever done for her before, but he owed it to her tonight. He hadn't hurt her, and he wouldn't hurt her, Joss even said so. Things were good between them again, or were pretty damn close at least. "I forgot to tell you, I found you a car."

"You did?" She asked, not overjoyed, but still grateful.

"Yeah, an old Ford Explorer," he said. "Not shiny and new, but it's easy enough to work on, and I won't feel like bitch driving it if I ever need to," he watched Joss's eyes drift closed as he rubbed soft circles up by her neck. "And, it's an automatic, easier for you to learn to drive."

"I know how to drive." She remarked as if they'd been discussing her ability to read or count.

"You don't have a license." He replied, as if reminding her.

"Yeah, but how does not having a little laminated piece of paper make me physically unable to step down on an accelerator and turn a wheel?" Joss laughed. "I caught this prospect skimming his own take out of the 'Silver Wing's' meth, and I blackmailed him into teaching me to drive…I had this escape planned at the time, it was so stupid…won me four broken ribs and an orbital fracture, but no freedom whatsoever."

Tig pretty much knew everything Joss had been through, but still, hearing her talk about it now, what with all the…"L" going on, it made him cringe inside, and wish he could stop it, even though there was nothing to stop anymore. He'd done what he could, when he could, but knowing there were things he couldn't stop, and people he couldn't rescue her from in the past, bothered him to no end in the present. But he didn't want to feel angry right now, or think about Joss being hurt; he'd thought about that enough tonight. "So, you think you can pass the driving test, though?"

Joss smiled. "I can if I get a copy of it to read first, can't I?" She said, and then sighed in a way that made Tig want to make her do it again and again as he slowly moved his hands downwards from her neck. He'd never imagined she could feel as tight and tensed as she did…his poor, perfect, little angel, she'd been under a lot stress. "So, when are you taking me to the DMV?"

He laughed. Yeah, like he was going to the DMV! "I think that sounds like a more enriching experience for Sack."

"Whatever," Joss sighed, not even bothering to ask why. She more slumped forward now than leaned, still reacted to where he touched her, but seemed like she was a little farther away in her mind. "Let's just get it over with."

"Let me get the Explorer fixed first, it needs new spark plugs and I'm not happy with the brakes." He said, beginning to wonder if everything was still okay, particularly when Joss sat up, halting the massage he'd been giving her and looked at him eye to eye.

"Tig, I don't ask you for a lot things, do I?" She wasn't whining it like some put-upon and underappreciated wife, it was an honest question about how spoiled he thought she was, and the answer was simple.

"No," He answered, and put his hands on her back again, rubbing her shoulders now because she wouldn't lean forward. Her head was somewhere he couldn't identify, but Tig knew he wasn't feeling too good about it being wherever that was. "Why are you worried about that? I thought we had that talk about why we're into each other?"

Joss sighed and let his hands all but take the weight of her body as he kneaded her deltoid muscles. "We did, and I love you, and I'd do anything for you, we're good, so don't worry, please!" She smiled at him, but it faded. "There was something I was going to ask you for, but I didn't want to be turning into some privileged bitch who was always demanding something from you."

Tig laughed a little. She was perfect! So perfect! "Joss, if you were anything even close to that, your head would be under this water right now." He promised, reaching over and catching her under her chin, making her look at him. It was rare that Joss asked for anything, usually waited until he asked if she needed anything, and even then, Joss was always so shy to say so. She should have been just the opposite, he'd always imagined she would be…the little rich brat that lived in a mansion…and even later on, after she'd been nearly starved to death by the fucking 'Warlords' who wouldn't let her eat unless she had their permission to, Joss should have insisted that Tig giver her everything in the world, on a silver platter, but no. She was happy with what he had given her. That, and the apology Tig still felt he owed her, despite having miraculously not hurt her tonight, made Tig want to give her whatever she desired. "Now, what do you want? Tell me."

She was a little hesitant to ask, he could tell, but she took a deep breath that seemed to make her stronger in this request as it filled her lungs. She sat straighter now, looking at him like he could make life so much easier for her than it felt like it was. "I want a gun."


	37. Loose Lips

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 37

"Hey, you know what I just figured out today, driving over here listening to the radio?" Joss asked, looking across the table at Tara, who was anxious and uptight, having already said she hated "knowing this kind of stuff," and Joss knew that neither she, nor Tara, were supposed to know any of it. Jax obviously ran his mouth about club business to Tara, and that was something Joss just couldn't believe; it was sacrilege, and Joss wouldn't be part of it. But Tara…it really was bothering her, and Joss wanted to make her feel better somehow. It was terrible that Jax had told Tara this, not only for the club, but mostly for Tara! No one should have to carry this around, unless they were an integral part of planning it and making it work anyway, and one more time Joss was so angry with Jax. Tara still had another five hours on her shift at the hospital, Joss with her new license, and her "new" Explorer, had driven over to meet her for lunch in Saint Thomas's cafeteria after getting a call from Tara, saying she really needed to talk to someone. But Joss never would have figured it would be about this.

Tara shook her head, looking at Joss over the rim of a coffee cup, expecting Joss to say something about Mayans, or ATF, but Joss was out to distract from that, not add to it, "that song by 'ZZ Top,' the one that goes, 'I know a girl who lives on the hill, she won't do it but her sister will…,' that one?" Joss asked, and Tara nodded, but looked strangely at her. "I always thought the title and the chorus was 'Two Snake Boogie,' but it turns out it's 'Tube Snake Boogie!'" Joss sighed. "Wow, for so many years now, I've had such a different image of what they were implying in that song!" She laughed.

It took a few seconds before Tara laughed, just sitting there across from her looking at Joss with a 'why are you telling me this' kind of look. Then finally she did laugh, a little, briefly, but Joss could tell she was still full on worrying about the club's intentions, and Jax's place within them both. Damn…Joss was going to need to be more direct in this, and she knew it was going to sound like she was pointing out Tara's inadequacies as an old lady, no matter how she said it. "I really can't help but worry what happens if this thing goes badly…I don't want Jax in jail again! That was the hardest thing we've ever been through!"

"Tara, you're worrying about something that hasn't even happened yet." Joss replied, and one more time, looked around the cafeteria to see if anyone was listening in on their conversation, because Tara had been talking about it all like it was some new salon she'd tried that had cut her hair wrong.

"But I know it does happen, Joss!" Tara replied shortly, frustration and panic in her voice, "you haven't lived through that yet, but I have, I've seen my man go to jail, I know sometimes things fall through, and when they do, everyone falls with them!"

Joss looked back at her, her feelings a bit hurt though they shouldn't have been, Tara was just venting her fears, and Joss knew that, saying a "thank you" to Tig that she knew he couldn't hear, for never telling her anything about club business…she didn't want to live with the fear of losing her man…though in a way she was living with it…Opie…she had to remove him before Tig, in his overzealous protectiveness, did something that would ultimately mean she'd be without him. And Tara thought she had problems?

Tara was now looking over at Joss and grimacing, reaching over and taking her hand. "I'm sorry!" She said, shaking her head. "I didn't mean to yell at you, this just all gets me so…crazy."

Joss nodded, "don't worry about it," she smiled understandingly, but Joss knew that was nowhere close to "crazy;" crazy was firing until a slurry of bone and brains whirled around her, and she'd watched part of her father's jaw hit the wall behind him, and then unloaded the rest of the clip into his God damn dick and balls. That was crazy, and she knew it was going to be making a return. But she couldn't think about that now, she couldn't give anyone any indication that she was putting the pieces in order, her thoughts constantly trying to formulate the right trap to lay, how to get it done and over with but have none of it lead back to her, or Tig. That was the hardest part…the "accidental" scenario, but there was no other way. She'd figure it out though, she wouldn't rest until she did. She loved Tig, and she'd do anything to protect him, even from himself. She looked back at Tara; that was her immediate problem, helping her friend get out of her own head…but damn Jax for locking her up in there to begin with! "Tara, this isn't your 'shit,' and because it isn't, you need to let go of it."

"But how can it not be? If effects Jax, and what effects him effects me, and Abel!" Tara's hand was on her chest, pressing so hard that her fingers were turning white around the beds of her nails. Her voice grew much quieter then, she leaned over the table, almost whispering, "I can't just sit back and trust that ICE will have a flawless immigration raid on the Mayans, that ATF will come swooping in to remove and protect their informants, and while ICE and ATF sit around having a governmental pissing match, our guys are putting on stolen Mayan cuts and preparing to isolate, follow and hijack the vehicle that'll be carrying Sta—ATF agents and three Mayan rats?" Tara shook her head again, her face as white as her fingers had been. "At best, that ends in a shoot out, and I could lose Jax forever then." She started to sigh again but then looked hard at Joss. "We both could lose them forever!"

Oh no, there was no way Joss was losing Tig! She hadn't even truly heard Tara's last statement; she was too enraptured by the word "shoot out." What if Opie took a stray bullet; a headshot? Just, "bang," and before anyone knew it, he was dead…counted among the casualties, no questions asked. It would be tricky though, Joss wasn't some sniper or something. Tig, it wasn't that she didn't worry for him, but she had faith in his abilities to not get arrested, or shot. But she had other things to think about, other answers she needed. She focused on Tara again, kept her voice low, telling herself she was comforting a friend. "Well, first of all, I'm sure if anything like that goes down, it'll be in some secluded place, where not a lot of back up will be available for their quarry."

Tara didn't even answer, pulled a pen from her white coat pocket and wrote on her napkin, "Abandoned logging camp," then shoved it over to Joss, who read it and nodded, Tara pulling it back again, crumpling it up and then stuffing it down into her half full bottle of iced tea, gone forever. "Okay," Tara said, "I maybe didn't think of it that way when Jax mentioned the location."

Joss nodded…the location…she was thinking of a lot of things herself, but she looked at Tara again and smiled, though it was difficult to do it and say the words she said next. "I can't believe Jax just…tells you this stuff. I don't understand that, but whatever the reason is, if he's telling you, you just have to hear it and then forget it. You can't live like this, Tara."

Tara's brow furrowed and she looked strangely at Joss, half like she was sorry for her, and half like she feared something was wrong in her own relationship. "Tig doesn't—"

"No!" Joss realized she'd answered too quickly and matter of fact-ly. "And I don't ask him.

"Well," Tara shrugged her shoulders, looking even more like she thought something was wrong between her and Jax, and was searching for something that might mean there actually was nothing wrong at all. "I guess you can't, can you? He 'owns' you, you can't do anything unless he says you can."

The way Tara's voice wrapped around the word "owns" made Joss's fingers unconsciously curl around the hem of her patch beneath the table, holding tightly. "That isn't it." She said, impressed with how casual and friendly her tone still was. "I know to you this whole 'property patch' thing seems very black and white, like some kind of 'master and slave' deviation. But it's so much more complicated than that, Tara. I know Tig is in charge, I know I have to listen to him, I know that whatever he says is what I have to do, or not do. But I also know that if I follow his lead, and I listen to him, then there aren't going to be any problems between us, because there won't be any reason for there to be. I know what's expected of me, and I know he's there if I ever need him, and I know he's going to make sure that wherever I am, here having lunch with you, around the club, or even alone with him, that I'll always be respected and safe."

Tara was looking at her speechlessly, and Joss could feel her heart beating a little harder in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, Tara was beginning to understand. But then Tara shook her head, like resisting what she maybe wanted to at least contemplate further. "But, he 'owns' you." Leave it to Dr. Knowles to be stuck on that one word.

"Yeah, he does, but Tig's end of 'owning' me is a bigger chunk of responsibility to take on his part than it is on mine, and requires him to sacrifice a lot in order to do this right and not look like he doesn't give a shit about something he's chosen to advertise is his!" Joss stopped for a moment, knowing she hadn't meant to sound so hard-charging with her words. She took a breath, re-centered herself. "How a man treats his old lady, particularly his property, influences how the club views him and respects him. If his brothers notice a man isn't keeping up his 'patch', then they start looking at how he takes care of other things, like his cut, his bike, himself…and they start to question how much his status in the club means to him if he isn't giving proper attention to everything else that's his." Joss was so proud to be schooling Tara on this, but at the same time, she hoped that she hadn't been making Tara feel like what she had with Jax wasn't meaningful. It was, Joss knew that, but it just needed some…direction. She'd given Tara the facts, but now she really should tailor this to something personal, just to make it sound like she'd been talking about her and Tig only. And they worth talking about…the two of them so traumatically fucked up and unable to cope with life as most people lived it, but when it came to the patch on Joss's back, they did everything right. There was no other place for them in the world but here, and Joss would fight, would kill, to keep that. "That Tig is willingly taking on all that extra scrutiny to have me in his life…well…I don't know if I can accurately describe how it makes me feel to mean so much to somebody."

Chapter 37; Part 2

Tig was laughing from across the table at her, separating the chunks of chicken from the peas and carrots in the potpie Joss had made for dinner, not really meaning for her to notice, but doing it out his anti-vegetarian spite nonetheless, even though it wasn't her diet they were discussing. "So that's why you want a gun, isn't it?" He asked, reaching for his beer now. "In order to fix doctor bitch, you need to take out Jax?"

Joss rolled her eyes as she stabbed an olive on her plate. "I never said anything even remotely close to that."

Tig laughed again. "Hey baby, you don't have tell me how it is, I never heard anything!" He had to pause a moment because he was laughing so much, "they find the body, I won't know a damn thing…I'll be all, 'no, I didn't notice anything strange…I thought he always had that hole in his forehead, I thought he was part whale or something.'"

"Tig, that isn't funny!" And it wasn't…not with what Joss was planning…or had pretty much planned at this point, thanks to Tara.

Tig was about to disagree when his cell rang, he held up one finger to Joss and grabbed the phone from off his belt. "It's Clay," he said, then flipped it open, putting to his ear. "Yeah? Oh man, is she okay? No, she should get checked out, might be something pulled in her back, and she doesn't need to be in that kinda pain later. Yeah sure, I'll be out, leaving in the next two minutes, tell Gemma I said not to worry about anything, and to feel better fast."

"What happened to Gemma?" Joss asked wide eyed and heart in her throat before Tig had even flipped his phone closed again. He was standing up, finishing his beer.

"She's okay," he said to her first. "She hit a deer out on near the old logging camp, the SUV's pretty fucked up, and Clay's taking her over to Saint Thomas's cuz she's got a little bit of neck and back pain." Tig reached for his cut, putting it on and grabbing his keys out of his pocket. "Clay wants me to go get the truck and tow Gemma's vehicle back to the shop, so I'll be back in about an hour, I guess."

Joss nodded, so relieved to know that Gemma was fine, but disappointed that Tig was leaving. "You want some company?" She smiled at Tig. "You just got home; I haven't seen you all day."

"Na," he said, walking over to her. "I'll be back soon, promise," he said then smiled a little himself. "I'll make it up to you later, baby." He leaned down and kissed her, pulling away much faster than Joss was ready for him too, then turned to leave. "Hey, while I'm gone, get everything that isn't chicken out of that stuff you made, it'll be better that way." He smirked at her then walked away.

It wasn't long after Tig had left, Joss not even finished her olives and rennet free feta cheese, before there was a knock on the door. What a strange occurrence. Unless someone knew her and Tig, then they didn't know there was even a house back here. So, it had to be someone she knew at the door, and with Gemma's accident so recently happened Joss feared that something awful had been discovered at the hospital, and someone was here to give her the news in person. She jumped up from the table and ran to the front door, as though her haste was somehow helping Gemma to pull through. She yanked open the front door, and got the shock of her life. Opie!

"Hey, is Tig around?" He asked her, kind of leaning in the doorway with that non-threatening menace he always had.

"No!" Jesus Christ! What was he doing here? Why was he asking for Tig to begin with? It was pretty obvious that they didn't like each other. But Opie forgot about Tig and was looking at her now, shifting his weight comfortably as he let his eyes drift over her from feet to head.

"Hear about Gemma?" He asked her, making no move, not backwards or forwards.

"Yes, so you can get the hell out of here!" Joss growled and started to shut the door, but Opie punched it right out of her hand and leaned towards her.

His eyes were mean and level, his voice flat, he wasn't going anywhere. "I think if you really didn't want me here, that would have been the first thing you said to me."

He was still only in the doorway, his feet having not crossed the threshold, but he was leaning closer and closer to her, Joss getting angrier and angrier, so angry, she couldn't even form words, her teeth clenched, waiting for that familiar feeling of something letting go, something running wild within her that she couldn't control. Opie was getting closer to her and closer, but his feet were still outside the doorframe…how was he able to do that? Maybe because he hadn't been the one who moved, she had, decreasing the distance between them, staring up at everything he was, he was about two inches taller than Tig, about ten years younger, a little stronger, but she didn't care, it didn't matter in the way it should have. She hated him, she hated him so much it was like she wanted to devour him, just rip him up into little pieces and shove them into her mouth and grind him up, little bits of him dangling between her teeth…

And then he was in her mouth, his tongue fighting so furiously with hers neither one of them could breathe, Opie's hands gripping her at her waist and her ass, Joss's arms locked around his neck, would have probably been strangling him if she hadn't been kissing him at the time, pulling him through the doorway now, into the house, collapsing onto the foyer floor with him above her, her claws slashing not at his skin or eyes, or the vulnerable sutures in his face, but at his jacket and shirt, Opie tearing them off for her with one hand as the other grabbed the hem of the t-shirt she wore and yanked it over her head. It was all she wore, and before Joss knew it he was in her, nowhere near as big and wonderful as Tig, but fucking her just as hard.


	38. Sword in the Stone

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 38

Tig stirred in his sleep, a vaguely familiar sound slowly pulling him from it. Having lived in the clubhouse dorm for so long, he was well acquainted with that gagging, retching sound a few doors down, but his half asleep brain processed the noises as some sort of dream. There were always a lot of noises living out here in the woods that semi-woke him each night, mostly squirrels bounding across the roof in the early morning hours, or dropping their acorns onto the house from some impressively high tree branch. Maybe now the fucking squirrels were puking on the roof, what couldya do? Wait, what? Even half asleep, that didn't make any damn sense, and now he was more awake than he was sleeping, stretching a little, but noticing there was way too much room in the bed. Could squirrels even puke? No, Jesus…don't start the whole cow thing again! Too much room in the bed…why? His eyes sprang open, greeted by darkness, but he could easily see that Joss wasn't there next to him. "Joss!" He called out, demanding an answer, trying not to sound as frantic as he was feeling, but the only answer he got was another gagging, retching sound from in the bathroom. He sat up; the light was on in there. "Son of a bitch…" he groaned to himself, getting to his feet but not really wanting to go in there, but part of him felt like he had to…what if she was vomiting blood or something serious like that? Love…it really did suck…so far it had made him acknowledge that it existed in the world, then in his life, then made him catatonic and now it had him assigned to puke duty!

Joss was on her knees, one hand clutching the toilet bowl, the other trying to hold back all of her black hair, she was gasping for breath and dripping with sweat. She didn't look at him or even act like she knew he was there, but then, she was a little bit distracted. "Hey," Tig said as he watched her, finally moving from the doorway after a few seconds of watching to make sure nothing was about to…spew forth. It seemed safe, she wasn't that big a girl, didn't eat damn near enough to suit him, so she had to be empty by now…but just as he stood beside her, Joss heaved and lunged forward again, another avalanche of her stomach contents chunking into the bowl. Oh fuck! He cringed, wondering why he'd bothered to get out of bed for this, but he was here now, so all he could do was grab the ends of her hair for her and look the other way.

Joss was gasping again, her body no longer frozen in that uncontrollable, gut hoisting position, and she was easing away from the bowl, sitting back on her knees as she reached for the toilet paper roll, yanking off a piece to wipe her mouth with. Tig didn't want to, not really, but he knew just to satisfy the panicky alarmist inside him, he had to take a quick glance at what she'd brought up, just to make sure it wasn't blood, or bile or whatever else that might have made him worry about it having been in there if he didn't just man-up and check it out. But, there was nothing more ominous than olives, rennet free feta cheese, and the peas and carrots she'd washed the thick chicken gravy off of and then eaten after he'd told her to pick them out of the potpie for him. Tig breathed a small sigh of relief, then cringed again, reaching passed Joss and about to flush, but looked at her for a moment. "We done here?"

Still trying to get her breath, Joss only nodded. Tig hit the handle and moved to close the lid too, but then thought twice about it…she'd already surprised him once. "Sorry," Joss managed to say to him, her breathing a little more normal, but no improvement in her pallor or perspiration. A new worry struck Tig…but Joss must have sensed his fear. "Don't!" She looked at him humorlessly. "Don't ask! You know I'm not pregnant!"

"Baby, I was going to ask if you had a fever," he countered, but really, the possibility of a fever had only just occurred to him a second ago. He stood, got her a cup of water from the tap, bending down again and handed it to her, noticing just how wet her hair was with sweat, and her nightshirt too. Damn, did she have a fever? Tig pressed his hand to her forehead, but he wasn't exactly sure what he was feeling for…she was living, she always felt warm.

Joss shook his hand away and moved to lean back against the wall behind her, slowly sipping the water he'd given her. "I'm fine," she insisted, looking like she was pissed with herself or something now.

Tig cocked his head at her and shook it. "Yeah, I puke five or six times a day when I'm 'fine' too."

She sighed. "I mean I'm not sick or anything," Joss's color seemed to fade even more and she closed her eyes as if there was something horrible in front of her she didn't want to be seeing.

"It's probably the way you eat," Tig couldn't resist bringing that facet into the conversation, but she just looked at him pleadingly to not be getting on her case about that now, and so he dropped it. It wasn't fair to harass her when she wasn't feeling good; she wouldn't do that to him. Fuck, did that make them equal? Because property patches weren't about equality! Okay, take control! "What is wrong with you?" He suddenly demanded, then gave her a foreboding look. "You better not be going bulimic on me, little girl!"

Joss rolled her eyes at him. "Oh yeah, that's it! You caught me!" She snipped at him, but Tig was managing to hold himself in check, she was having a bad night; that was obvious. Joss sighed in annoyance next. "Tig, for real! C'mon, please?"

Okay, that was a stupid thing to say, he realized that now. Joss quickly apologized though, even as Tig had decided to make it up to her by grabbing a washcloth from the towel rack, folding it over a few times then running it under cold water, handing it down to her to wipe her sweaty face and neck with as he took a seat against the bathroom wall beside her. "So, what's wrong?" He asked, but this time he was just asking, no show of force or power, he was just concerned.

"I don't know," Joss sighed, but didn't look at him, just buried her face in the cool washcloth like she wanted to hide. "I had this dream…"

"That must have been some dream!" He replied, looking at her like it was something he'd never heard of before, but in truth, Tig had dreams that reduced him to the same kind of state once or twice himself, less than a year after he'd returned state side…and then again not too long ago, for days after 'that night,' only then, he hadn't had to dream anything to get where Joss now was. "About what?"

Joss took the washcloth from her face and lifted her hair, pressing it to the back of her neck next, but she stared straight ahead. "I don't even really remember…it was just…something atrocious, something I couldn't believe I'd done, and there was no taking it back."

Tig was nodding, yeah, he'd been there too. "Whatja do?" His arm slipped around her sweaty shoulders. His poor little, dark, perfect angel…she'd never been diagnosed, but it had been clear to him for a long time that she had the same Post Traumatic Stress Disorder that effected him…the "spider monkey" was part of that too. Well, at least he knew how to be there for her when she needed him to be. He heard Joss sigh, but it ended in a sniffle; she looked over at him with her eyes growing glassy and red, shaking her head. He nodded, understanding. "Okay, we don't have t talk about it now," he said softly, pulling her a little closer to him, Joss laying her head on his shoulder. "We'll just sit here awhile," he took her hand and held it in his lap. "Let you figure out where you are again, and when you know it's okay, and you feel safe, we'll talk about it then."

He felt her nod then lean closer, her eyelashes fluttering against his neck…that had driven him so wild the very first time she'd done it years ago, and it still did. "Thank you," Joss murmured, wiping at her eyes with the hand Tig wasn't holding and then brushing her damp bangs off of her forehead. She was quiet for an entire two or three minutes but he could tell that tears were pouring from her eyes, though Joss made no sobbing sounds. Tig waited patiently, letting her feel whatever it was he knew she had to feel, or go through, there was no other way back from this, he knew that. "Tig," her voice was shaky and weak, but he'd been surprised to hear it so soon.

"Yeah?" He asked, softly stroking his fingers up and down her arm in a soothing manner.

"I really do want a gun." Joss trembled a little as she said it.

He sighed; he hadn't been able to quite figure out this request of hers. He was thinking more along the lines of a dog, or a cat or a coatimundi…something like that when she'd said she wanted something…but a gun? What the fuck was a coatimundi? No, focus on the gun. "I'm not saying 'no,' okay?" He said, turning towards her even though her head was still on his shoulder. "But, why do you want a gun all of a sudden?"

Joss shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know, I guess this thing with…Jax just sorta got me thinking."

"About blowing him away?" Tig asked half tickled to death and half worrying about what went on in that head of hers. "Holy puking squirrels, Joss! Probably not the most recommended strategy at this point in the game."

"What?" For a moment Joss's funk was broken by what he'd said as she looked at him strangely…Tig trying to think of how to explain that little outburst, but Joss had decided it wasn't worth hunting before he even could think of a rationalization, and she'd moved onto something else…thankfully. "No, that's not what I was thinking," She replied, ignoring Tig's half smirk, fueled by thoughts of Jax being blown away…and the puking squirrels. Joss sighed again. "It's just that Gemma has a gun, and hell, even Tara has a gun! But I don't."

"And what? The three of you gonna hit a bank?" Tig laughed, and then realized that Joss was laughing too. Good, she was feeling better, the residual shell shock wearing off. "Have the Laurens drive the get-away car?"

"No," she sighed, but he knew she still smiled, at least for a few seconds before she raised her head off of his shoulder and looked at him in the eyes. "But I do want a gun, and I just wanted you to know that I didn't just say that, and that I'd forget about it in another day or two."

"I know," Tig nodded, taking the wash cloth from her and dabbing at her eyes a little now. "I'm on it, I am. And then I'll teach you to shoot."

Joss's brow furrowed. "But I know how to shoot," she said. "I think we both know that."

"No, baby," Tig smiled at her, she was so damn cute, thought knowing how to shoot meant knowing how to pull the trigger. "You know how to kill, but that's not the same thing."

"But it's the most important thing, right?" She asked, and there was something in her eyes that made Tig look twice.

She'd been acting a little funny the night she'd first asked him for a gun, and now this? "Alright, I wanna know what the hell you were dreaming, and I wanna know now."

Joss looked down and didn't look up again, her lower lip quivered a little bit and she took a ragged breath. "It was about the thing that scares me the most in life…"

"Which is?" Tig asked, getting a little impatient with her now, this 'sit and wait' stuff really really not something he was cut out for.

Joss finally looked up, her eyes locking into his. "Hurting you."

Chapter 38; Part 2

There had always been something comforting about being in Clay's presence, with or without Tig's being nearby, and that hadn't changed, no matter how tightly knitted Joss knew she and Tig were now. Even though there hadn't been any run for the guys to come home from, Gemma in her 'not to be argued with' way had set another date for dinner, and informed Tara and Joss of it. Just like before, Jax and Tara were the first to leave, citing the baby of course. But Tig and Joss had stayed, only instead of being in the kitchen helping Gemma with the dishes, Joss was out on the back deck with Clay, helping him with his arthritic hands, while Tig busied himself in Clay's basement workshop/library, looking through Clay's endless collection of "Guns & Ammo" magazines. Tig had said he'd pretty much made a decision about a gun for her, but said that he wanted to check one more thing about a magazine for the piece he was thinking of, and Joss hadn't argued. She needed that gun!

And Clay had needed relief from the pain in his hands. Gemma had mentioned a few days ago about how Clay wasn't able to grasp and turn a doorknob some nights after wrenching nuts and bolts all day, and also working his throttle and break. She'd always known Clay's hands bothered him, it became apparent most nights when they'd play video games together in Jax's old room, and Joss had wished she could have done something for him then. But now she was able to, having been researching arthritis and relief from it for the last three days, until she was confident she could come up with something that would give Clay some respite and reduce the inflamed joints better than anything that came from the drugstore. When she'd gone to Tig and asked for money to buy some herbs and a mortar and pestle, and told him what it was for, he'd readily handed her the cash, saying, "Let me know if you need more!"

"It smells a lot better than the sports creams," Clay commented as he sat in the oversized Adirondack chair with all the scrolling, tattoo-ish looking designs burned into the wood. Joss knelt beside him, gently smearing the paste she'd made onto the back of his hand.

She smiled. "That's because there's cinnamon in it." She said, rubbing it deeply into his skin, but careful not to press too hard over the sore joints of his knuckles. Clay was a deceptively big guy; Tig was taller than him by an inch or two, but Clay's hands were like the paws of a bear. Gemma had said he used to work out when he was younger, and the remnants of that remained, his shoulders were big and so were his upper arms. He must have really been a powerhouse once, and it made Joss so sad to think that arthritis was now making the glories of his broad, strong frame and thick arms a moot point. She smiled a little sadly and a lot hopefully up at Clay as she took his big hand in hers, dipping into the little tin of the poultice she'd made and working it into each finger now. There was a significant age difference between her and Tig, but she'd be there even more for him than she was for Clay, when the time came. "This should work better than the sports creams too, because the sports creams are only a counterirritant, makes your skin feel hot so you notice that and not the joint pain."

"Is that all that shit does?" Clay asked, looking almost betrayed. Joss nodded apologetically, but it all seemed to give Clay some hope suddenly. "Man, maybe I'm not as bad off as I think I am then!"

"Maybe!" Joss smiled, hoping that was it too. She gently turned his hand over and began to rub the poultice into his palm. "If this works, I'll make some more, and put it into a better travelling container, and that way you'll always have it when you need it."

"That is feelin' a little different," Clay said glancing down at how she rubbed the reddish, brown cream into his hands. "What's in there besides cinnamon?"

Joss had worked on this concoction for a day or two…Tig testing it out, but then it wasn't very effective being that any arthritis he did have was not very prominent. He'd liked how it tasted though…Tig…Joss rolled her eyes even now, but focused on the attention she gave Clay's hand. "Capsaicin from some chilis I bought and dried, because it honestly deadens nerve endings after the initial burning and stinging, some ginger, twenty ground up aspirins, and the cinnamon, all mixed into some emu grease to make it applicable."

"Emu grease?" Clay questioned, a little put off as he looked down at her. "What happened to being vegetarian?"

"Well, it's not like I ate it!" Joss laughed up at him, finished with one hand and taking Clay's other hand. "You got my pork-chop at dinner, didn't you?" She asked as if reminding him, and thanking him at the same time. "And yeah, emu fat absorbs into the skin faster, so not only does it carry the aspirin and capsaicin into the joint faster, it also means your hands won't be slippery if you're trying to work or ride."

"Huh," Clay kind of grunted, testing out the hand that she'd already treated, giving his fingers a bend or two, then nodded his head at her as she worked his other hand. "You think of everything, dontcha, little one?"

Joss smiled, earning Clay's approval, knowing she'd made him happy, meant just about as much as it did to have Tig's approval, but it filled two very different places within her. "For certain people." She answered, so happy that she'd been able to help. "I even dried some marigold petals, ground them up and threw them into this batch. Marigold is an anti-inflammatory, and I also remember reading that Henry the eighth's fifth wife, Catherine Howard, used to treat the abscess on his leg with marigold." Joss said, still smiling up at Clay as she rubbed his hand. "I thought that if it was good enough for a king, it was definitely good enough for you, Clay!" She smiled even more, happy to see how Clay smirked proudly down at her, but then she laughed a little. "Of course, he did cut her head off…so I hope this doesn't end that way!"

Clay chuckled. "I think you're safer than most." He said, lifting the hand that Joss had finished with and bending his fingers a few more times, this time much more rapidly and smoothly than the first time. "Hey, look at that!" He beamed down at her. "Not one day of medical school and you've got me almost good as new!"

Joss only smiled again, wanting to really bask in the light of that comment, but she couldn't, because it had been meant as a hidden dig at Tara. Clay never said anything bad about her, or acted rudely or standoffishly towards her, but he'd always made it clear that Joss was much more a part of the family than Tara, and sometimes, even Jax. Joss turned his other hand over and began to rub the poultice into the palm of that hand. "Great! I'm so happy you're feeling better, Clay!"

Clay nodded then sighed, like maybe something was wrong, and Joss began to feel a little bit nervous. She was about to ask if everything was okay, when Clay looked down at her. "Tig says you've been having some problems sleeping lately."

What? Tig talked to Clay about her waking up and getting sick from that dream of betrayal she'd had? She hadn't told Tig what it was all about, or that it involved Opie, but she'd made clear that she'd done something against her man in that dream, and when she'd woke up, unsure of what she'd done and what she hadn't, her body had just needed to purge itself in some effort to get the vileness out and be 'clean' again. She'd had two rather sleepless nights since the Opie dream, so afraid of dreaming about him again. Tig must have been worried about her if he'd confided in Clay about this. Hmm…how did she fix this without it becoming something she really didn't want it to be, before someone, somehow figured out what her intentions were with Opie? She looked up at Clay and laughed a little. "Well, if I'm having problems sleeping, that's probably because I sleep with Tig."

Clay laughed a little too, but then shook his head down at her. "You know what I mean, Joss," he said, his tone of voice conveying that they were going to talk about this, like it or not.

Joss sighed too, looking down like she'd disappointed him, and feeling like she had. "I…" but she didn't know what to say, and wasn't about to say what she could say. "There's just been a lot of things going on with me lately…I'll be okay eventually, I'll make sure of that."

"Alright, that's good!" Clay nodded his head as she went back to rubbing poultice over each one of his fingers. "But look, Joss, we may have never talked about it, you and me, but I know what you've been through, I know what kind of shit you had to deal with growing up," he said, looking down at her seriously, freezing her at attention with his gaze. "We don't have to get into it, unless you ever want to, but I want you to know that there's help out there for you, beyond me and beyond Tig even. And if you ever wanna get that help, and for some reason I doubt would even exist, Tig isn't for it, you come to me, and I'll make sure you have what you need." He looked at her for awhile, Joss so stunned. "Okay?"

She nodded, but then Clay had commanded her to without needing words. "Wow," she gasped, looking dutifully up at him. "Clay, I don't know what to say…thank you!"

"That's alright," he answered, settling back into his giant, ornately decorated Adirondack chair. "I just want you good," he said, then glanced up towards the kitchen window and listened for any sounds, then looked back down at Joss. "I never said this to you either, and you don't tell anyone about this, not even Tig!" Clay's blue eyes were positively alight, making Joss nod her head furiously all over again, nearly holding her breath as she awaited what he'd say next. "When the day comes that I can't turn the throttle even with the miracle you mixed up, I'll do everything in my power to make sure your man succeeds me. The 'heir apparent' is not who everyone assumes he is."


	39. Moving Targets

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 39

Tig would have laughed if he wasn't starting to feel Joss's frustration. That empty one gallon milk jug was obviously the toughest opponent she'd ever faced. But he knew she could do it, she just had to get all this shit about what she thought shooting a gun was out of her head, and listen to what he was telling her. He'd been very selective when it came to choosing a gun for her, knew that she'd had some minimal familiarity with the Beretta M9, but he also knew the gun was too heavy and much too large for her hand; it was a definite man's gun, and she'd be hard pressed to learn to shoot with it. Yeah, she'd argue that she'd taken her father down with it, but that had been at close range, and Tig was nowhere near impressed with her accuracy…because there hadn't been any display of it. Plus, she'd shown a proclivity to shoot low with the Beretta too, most of her shots having ended up in daddy's groin; half because Tig figured that's what Joss felt needed the most killing, but also likely because the weight of the piece was pulling her hands downward.

But the Glock G19 in her hands, that made Tig smile…at least, the control over it Joss had when she held it still did, anyway. It wasn't some sissy little snub-nose nine mil, looked nothing like a "girl's gun," if Joss ever did have to whip it out, it was going to have a presence, that was for sure. But, she was still misaligning her rear and front sights, not breathing like he'd told her to as she squeezed back on the trigger, and she fought a little bit with the low, blockish kind of feel he knew it had in the shooter's hand, but all of these things would be something she'd adjust to. He'd never been a fan of the polymer framed pistols, but the Glock was a good first gun for Joss; lightweight, accurate in the long range, durable and any replacement parts were easy to find and inexpensive. She'd get to like it herself if she'd just listen to what he was telling her to do, and stop trying to be some TV series cop.

Once more the gun kicked back in her hands, Joss making a face as the recoil tweaked her wrist and the bullet whined off wide right of the milk jug, blowing the bark off of yet another tree. She dropped the weapon to her side, shaking her head and ripping her ear protection off, so very flustered. "Can we go back to the paper targets? I was at least hitting those!"

Tig shook his head calmly, loving every moment of teaching her yet something else. "And that's why we stepped up to this, so no." She'd been about average when it came to the paper targets, landed one shot inside the ten-ring at least, but paper targets were just that, paper targets. He'd taken two saw horses, thrown a piece of plywood over top of them, making a platform where he'd put a small kiddie-pool, filled it with water, and set the empty milk jug afloat. Joss was yet to hit the jug, but she'd nailed several surrounding trees, nicked the very edge of the plywood, and shot one saw horse in the leg which Tig was surprised to see had held up and not caused the pool and the water and the jug to begin listing to one side. He hoped Joss would find the milk jug soon, before she shot the pool and the whole exercise had to be disbanded. "What did I tell you to look at before you pulled the trigger?"

"The sight!" Joss sighed, still so frustrated.

"Which one?" Jesus Christ, had she not heard anything he'd told her? Well, this was a little different for her, she couldn't just read or listen to something and let those memorization skills take over, there were variables in this, but that's exactly what Tig had wanted to make her confront, a real life situation, only without the returning fire, of course.

But Joss just shook her head and looked at him. "Tig, it doesn't matter, because the milk jug keeps moving!"

Tig laughed a bit. "I hate to break it to you, little girl, but ninety percent of the things you shoot at in life are likely to be moving too." She had been the one who wanted the gun, and now she had one…but like it or not, she was going to learn to use it properly, even if learning how wasn't as easy for her to pick up as most other things were. "C'mon, Joss. Think of your horses, this is similar. You can't tell me that a horse always does the same thing every time you get on it, but I know you're good at adjusting to the curves they throw at you. Think the same way, baby, you'll be fine."

"Tig I can't fucking see anything!" she half sputtered, looking down at the gun in her hand like she hated it, then ground her teeth a little bit before looking at him. "And you were in the army, you were going into combat, I don't need—"

"Jocelyn!" Tig half growled and shook his head at her, getting her full attention, which was what he wanted. "If you're going to carry that gun, then you're in combat too, and you never think about it any differently than that, you gettin' me?" He hadn't meant to yell at her, which he really hadn't, but he'd managed to make her face go pale and her eyes become wide nonetheless. But Tig couldn't help it, her attitude towards the piece in her hands was pushing a lot of his buttons…she was standing there like Jax's doctor bitch with a gun…and Tig wasn't having that! "You're going to learn this forwards and backwards until you don't even have to think about how to line up those sights when you point that barrel at something, because if you can't get to the point with this that you're cool, calm and collected with a gun in your hands, then 'the Jossinator' is going to get herself into shit I can't get her out of, and I don't want that!"

Joss's whining, frustrated attitude was suddenly MIA, and she was looking up at him startled and surprised, like maybe she hadn't really thought about just what it was she'd asked for when she'd said she wanted a gun. Whatever, she was looking more serious now, nodded her head. "Okay," she said, her voice strong, not reticent and nervous, she was ready to give this her all now, he could tell. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be 'sorry,' just shoot the damn gun the way I've been telling you to." Tig sighed in aggravation, but he moved behind her, taking her right hand by the elbow and extending it out in front of her, with the gun in her hand. He'd give her another chance, a clean slate to start with again…and he'd be a little nicer too. "I know it feels awkward, baby, cuz you're like me, right handed but left eye dominant," he said, bringing her left hand up to wrap around the outside of the handle and support her right hand. He'd done a quick test with her, making her cover each eye one at a time and read some letter's he'd marked down in a notebook, holding it ten paces away from her, and a bit surprised and disappointed when she'd turned out to have better vision in her left eye than her right, as far as shooting went. It had been a dilemma Tig had learned to overcome in the army, and now he didn't really think much about it, until he watched Joss struggling now. He wasn't about to be easy on her though, that wasn't how he'd learned to compensate for the issue himself. She did need to know how to shoot, he'd decided that more and more as they got into this lesson; how different would 'that night' have been if Donna knew how to shoot? Tig shook it off, paid attention to Joss, she had to learn; it could be her only protection some time what with whatever Opie's deal still might be. Joss…she was just going to have to learn to shoot around having a dominant left and eye and right hand, it was just one more fucked up thing in her life; she'd have to get over it just like she did everything else. And she could do it too, if she just paid fucking attention to what he was saying. She couldn't see, she'd complained? That was only because she wasn't looking. "But, this is a handgun, not a rifle, so you just gotta suck it up."

Tig checked the way she held the Glock, felt how braced her right elbow was then looked down at her feet. "Open your stance a little more," he told her, "it'll help with the recoil," Joss did as he said, Tig looking over her right shoulder, at the rear and front sights. "Okay, now look at both those sights until you see them as one thing, and not two." He watched Joss, slowly letting go of her, not wanting to be in her way when she was ready. "Point the front sight at that jug, but don't look at the jug, look at the front sight, that's all I want you to see," he instructed. He saw her square up a little, knew she was happy with her aim. "If that jug moves, you just keep your eye on that front site before you pull that trigger," he reminded. "Now go ahead, when you're ready, take a breath, breathe half of it out, then ease that right index finger back, nice and even, until you're surprised by the gun going off."

Chapter 39; Part 2

Joss felt herself jump with the milk jug that made a loud popping sound and then flew backwards out of the kiddie-pool. She gasped, turning to Tig with so much exuberance and so much pride and relief. "I did it!" She jumped up and down, forgetting there was a gun in her hand, until Tig quickly grabbed it from her, giving her a look of slight reprimand. "Sorry," she blushed, but reached for her gun again. Her gun! "But it worked! I did it!"

Tig smiled, but as per usual, he wasn't going to celebrate like she did. "See? I told you there was nothing wrong with the gun!"

Joss rolled her eyes, but yeah, she had thrown a little bit of a fit, saying the gun was "stupid" and that "no one could shoot with it." Her little rant had only prompted Tig to relieve her of the weapon, calmly point it down "range" and pop off so many rounds into the first milk jug that it sank beneath the water in the kiddie-pool. Then he'd handed the empty Glock back to her, smiled at her in a smug fashion and said, "I don't think it's the gun, baby." Well, it had been good that he'd done that though, despite how pissed off it had made Joss at the time. But really it took that speech about being in combat every time she touched that gun, and what kind of unnecessary problem she could be for him if she didn't learn and become comfortable and capable in what she knew, to finally wake her up. She was going to need to know how to take proper aim, at a moving target, and hit that target, and she only had a few more days before it was all real! There'd be no room for errors! It really had kicked her in the ass and made her realize how much she needed to improve, how much she still had to learn and master if she was going to stand sentinel over what she and Tig had, and what Tig had within the club; protect one, protect the other. And there was so much to protect now, and Joss suddenly realized that her love and loyalty to Tig, and the duty assigned to her by Clay, had made her as much a soldier in this as was anyone else who wore a reaper on their back! Wow, in only the last few minutes, she'd felt herself grow up so much. Good; with what was to come, she had to, and it had nothing to do with Opie.

She looked up at Tig, smiling at him and shaking her head. How did she ever come to be with this man…the future king of SAMCRO? The idea of fairytales were dead to her before she'd even turned seven years old, there were no Snow Whites, no Prince Charmings, and yet here she'd grown up to be some fucked up version of Cinderella…but she was Cinderella nonetheless; and it was all because of Tig. And he was looking at her oddly, brow furrowed, concern in his ice blue eyes, "Joss, what's going on in there right now? You okay?"

Hmm…she was holding a gun, no wonder he looked a little apprehensive about what her mood might be and where her thoughts were, what she was possibly reliving. But Joss only laughed, giggled really, "I'm better than that," she said to him. "And I wouldn't be without you, Tig! If I didn't have you, there's no way I'd be where I am, or feel the way I do!" She'd always known that one day, they'd be like Clay and Gemma, and one day, they would be! Oh God! She wanted to tell him everything that Clay had said to her! Of course she couldn't, and wouldn't, but it jumped up and down and stomped its feet inside her, looking for some way to just explode out of her and wrap the news of Tig's coming coronation around him. It wouldn't happen tomorrow, but it would happen, Joss would make as sure of it as she knew Clay intended to.

There would be a fair share of fallout over it when it happened too; Tig never having displayed himself as not being without some moments of…well, of just having a few screws loose. Even though Joss loved him, she had to admit that he did, not every thought he had was motivated by, or came from, some wholesome or sane part of his psyche. It was for that reason that she'd been shocked herself to hear Clay name him as his choice for his successor, but Clay had explained why so very well. Clay knew the club would be what he'd spent nearly 18 years shaping it to be if Tig took over the reins, and with the reputation his crazy SAA had developed in the world of MC's, SAMCRO would retain their status as being "no one's bitch." Tig knew the gun running game as well as Clay, he was quick to identify trouble in or outside of the club, and he'd always been loyal to SAMCRO and Clay himself. It had made Joss so happy to hear such things about her man, she'd been sitting at Clay's feet listening and smiling, her heart completely aflutter, and then Clay had looked down at her and said, "and now that he's got his life together, got a house, got a woman, I know he's ready, and he's got you to thank for getting him there. So you keep him there, Joss, that's your job now." And she would…she would!

"Tig," she still smiled at him now then kissed him again, her lips beginning the chase both times, but quickly giving into his. "I really do love you, and you know I'll be here for you whenever and whatever you might need me for, don't you?"

"Joss," Tig sighed, but not unappreciatively, putting his arms around her lower back, his hands migrating to her ass. "You've been saying that shit an awful lot lately."

"I've had a lot of shit going in my head lately," she replied, and suddenly her plan for Opie, and the dream she'd had about him, pulled severely at her mind and heart. Never before had she felt so strongly that she'd betrayed Tig, opened her eyes with expectations of seeing Opie above her, and she still remembered what it had all…felt like. Opie was one of those guys that Joss knew would never try to own her, would likely never even look at her as anything other than 'damaged goods' that he wouldn't waste his energy putting up with…there were better, more normal things out there for him…because despite a few little things in his life, like an MC, he was normal, no ghosts he'd caused to haunt him, no constant fight with drug or alcohol addiction, no going through life with some form of mental instability or illness. He was what Joss knew would never want something like her…only, he did. And that thought, that feeling that Opie had somehow elevated her above what she used to be, just wouldn't leave her mind; she'd never forgive Opie for that. That was Tig's place, not his!

How could she even think about that when she loved Tig as much as she did? God…Tig was her everything! That hadn't been diminished, not even a little…she was Tig's and Tig was hers…they were two things that belonged together, belonged to one another; had been custom tortured, beaten, chopped open, rearranged inside, and sewn up again with pieces too jagged to fit anywhere else than into each other. And yet, Opie somehow managed to insert himself in between some of those wicked edges…and the only way to remove him was to…practice a little more with the Glock.

Joss looked at Tig, almost throwing her arms around him, but remembering at the last second that she better not, settling for a hand placed over his heart…she wanted to fuck him, now, on the floor in the foyer…to purify that place in her mind now and always. "I just never want you to think there was a time when I wasn't thinking of you, or wanting you, or loving you," she said to him, memorizing every detail about his ice blue eyes, his dark mustache and double goatee, the wild dark hair and the way he looked back at her like he was so undeserved of such words. But Joss gave his jaw a gentle stroke, which Tig at first tried to shake off, but eventually allowed. She nodded her head at him that he was deserved of the words she said, and much much more. "Thinking of you, wanting you and loving you is my life."


	40. Whisperer

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 40

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Skip!" Joss groaned, but smiled with a freedom she hadn't felt in such a long time, patting the older horse on the neck as she and Juice's Lauren slowly rode up the slight hill back towards Lauren's barn and arena. "You're probably thinking, 'who is this crazy girl? I'm retired, and she's got me racing across fields!'" Joss laughed, and then dropped her reins and leaned all the way down, her weight forward in the saddle, heels down, a more than satisfying kind of stretch in her calves as she threw her arms around Skip's long neck.

Beside her Lauren laughed, riding along on her big black Dutch gelding with the four even white socks, Markus. Now that was a good looking horse, big boned, solidly built, not an easy horse to fall from by any means, but Joss's eye had always been drawn to that kind of confirmation, and he was such a dandy with those four even, white socks! "It won't hurt Skip to have a good run every now and then," she said, patting Markus on the neck. "Skip still runs Markus around their paddock when he steps out of line and starts being an obnoxious kid." She laughed again. "Besides, we don't get to do this very often; most of our time is spent in the arena perfecting our dressage routine. I think Markus enjoyed this trail ride as much as Skip did!"

"That's good!" Joss smiled, sitting up in the saddle again and looking over admiringly and still a little jealously at how well Lauren sat a horse, without having to try to. "This has been such a great day for me! Thank you for inviting me over!" She beamed, it was so incredible to be on a horse again, standing in the stirrups and galloping across the expanse of a green field. Once again Joss said a quick 'thank you' to Tig that he couldn't have heard, for allowing her to accept Lauren's invitation. It was just what she'd needed with everything that had been bearing down on her: Tara and Jax, the future of SAMCRO and what she owed it beginning now, another club party to get through tonight, and Opie…she'd be handling that pretty soon too…it was down to hours nearly. But when she was on a horse, or just around horses, there was nothing else on her mind. They'd always been the greatest of escapes.

"No problem! We should do this again! It's just so good to be able to ride with someone who can hold their own!" Lauren answered. "I love Juice, and I love having him around to help out…or something like that…around the barn and stuff, but, he's just not going to be that knight on the steed that I always thought I would need in order to make it work." She sighed, but she was smiling, Joss smiled too, knowing there were no problems there between Lauren and Juice. No one ever got what they thought they wanted when it came to meeting the right person. Anyone who had a "type" would soon find out how wrong they were. Joss herself would never have ended up with Tig if the "type" that everyone thought they wanted was actually who they were meant to be with. Of course, Joss didn't know enough or even think enough about things to figure she had a "type" before meeting Tig, but a big, bad ass biker with a few screws loose and a penchant for necrophilia wasn't likely to have topped her list of attributes she'd look for in a man. But then, just who's "type" was Tig anyway? Nope, he was always all hers! Joss laughed out loud, luckily Lauren took it to be at what she'd said and laughed too. "I can't understand how Juice can so easily handle an eighty horse power engine, flying along down the highway at almost ninety miles an hour with one hand on the throttle and the other wrapped over both of mine to make sure I'm holding on tightly, but he can't handle just one, twenty-six year old actual horse!" She sighed, and laughed again.

Joss laughed again and then shrugged. "Why is that Tig can keep the largest SOA charter of outlaw bikers in line, but can't find a way to keep the chipmunks from getting into the garage, up on his workbench, and stealing all his shiny nuts and bolts?" That had been an ongoing war that Joss just loved to receive the correspondences of, even though it pissed Tig off to no end every time he went out into the garage and found that the lid had been mysteriously screwed off of the old pickle jar, and that he was missing yet another handful of hardware. "God damn it!" He'd always yell as he came into the kitchen, through the door adjoining the kitchen and garage. "It did it again, Joss! And yesterday when I came home, there was bunch of sticks and shit sticking out of one of my headlight boxes, and when I looked, the little fucker made a nest in there, with seven of my God damn screws! I swear I'm going to sit out there in the morning with a hammer and smash every one of those fucking rats!"

"The hell you are!" Joss had quickly responded to him sternly, "and if you do, I'm never 'playing dead' for you again! You'll have to get it from me the old fashioned way!" Tig had only grumbled something unintelligible, but Joss couldn't help but notice that all of the animals that frequented their house were safe, and respected after she'd made that threat. Tig…he was so strange, and so fucked up…but so was she…and they were everything the other needed. And soon, there'd be nothing that threatened what they were.

"So what's going to be happening at the party tonight, anything?" Lauren asked, bringing Joss out of her thoughts, and once again reminding her of the seniority she had in this life.

Joss shrugged, nowhere near as apprehensive or nervous about tonight's party as she had been last week's, but still, she preferred not to think about it…Opie would be there…and who knew where that would lead? "I don't know," Joss answered, wanting to just change the subject, then looked over at Markus, his solid, muscle bound frame, and she smiled. "So, how is he over fences? You do any hunter/jumper classes with him? He'd be such a regal Hunter!"

Lauren laughed, giving the big black another pat on his neck. "Markus jumps, but I don't." She said, and sighed. "I'm so short, my legs can't grip passed his ribcage, and I'd probably go flying over his head." She laughed.

"Really? You don't jump?" Joss honestly couldn't believe that. A horse like the one Lauren had, and they didn't jump? "Have you ever seen him jump?"

"Once or twice when I bought him," Lauren answered, looking up into the ring at the old standards and rails, weather beaten and paint chipped, but she smiled at Joss. "Think you remember how to jump? Wanna try him?"

Chapter 40; Part 2

Tig had never seen Joss on an actual horse before; he'd only seen the pictures that were pinned to the wall in her old bedroom, in daddy's mansion. The garage had been slow, so he'd cut out early, remembered she was riding today at Lauren's and decided to check it out, just incase, who knew what might be happening? Horses were big animals, and dangerous too. As he slowly drove down the long gravel drive, towards a large riding arena, he could see both the girls, on horses, one of them standing quietly off to the side, while the other one, who Tig was soon able to identify as Joss, was riding a shining black, massive animal around the ring at a…well, the horse was what he'd call "running," but what Joss would have called it, he wasn't sure. That girl really did look good on a horse, moving with every stride of the beast, holding his head with his nose close to his chest though there was no obvious tension on the reins in her hands; all of her weight looking like it was in her heels, stretching her legs long and lean around the horse's black hide. And she was so…into it, a look like nothing he'd ever seen on her face before; she didn't smile, she didn't narrow her eyes and force the animal under her control, they were just both there together, one responding to the other, and Tig began to understand where Joss had learned to bond with and to trust him as much as she did. Horses, they were all bigger and stronger than her, there was no way she'd ever be able to make any of them do something they didn't want to do. The trick was making them want to do it…and damn that girl, but that's exactly what she'd done to him.

She was tuned into the horse, the horse tuned into her, one of his ears at times flicking back towards her, as if picking up signals from her, then responding to them, increasing his speed, turning off the rail now, down the center of the arena, towards a jump that was set up there. The horizontal bar between the two many slatted vertical pieces that held it hadn't seemed that high, maybe about three feet off the ground, and the black horse Joss rode was huge, but the closer the horse, carrying his Joss, got to the jump, the bigger and higher it began to look, and Tig realized he'd gotten off of his bike and had run over to the fence around the arena, as if he could be there to catch Joss if she fell off of that horse…and then it was too late, the horse's massive front hooves lifted off of the crushed gravel in the arena, his knees tucked up to his broad chest, his strong rear legs propelling his big body over the jump, his front legs unbending just in time to catch himself, Joss crouched over his thick neck, not sitting in the saddle any longer, all of her weight in the stirrups she stood within, her hands tangled in the long black mane as the rest of the animal skipped effortlessly over the fence, landing with a slight bounce then continuing on in those long, smooth strides. Lauren cheered at the other end of the arena, and Joss…she looked up with the biggest smile of pride, empowerment, and triumph on her face that Tig had ever seen, sitting back in the saddle again, and finally noticing him as she slowed her mount, beaming as she patted the animal's strong neck. She'd never looked more beautiful!

"Hey," Joss still wore that smile as she walked the horse on towards him at the fence, Lauren beginning to ride down on the other horse herself now. "What are you doing here? It's only two thirty."

"Not much to do today, I think it's because the hot ass receptionist type ain't showing up for work anymore." Tig smiled back at her, reaching out and touching the broad expanse of the horse's face a little above his nose, only to have the animal pull away and toss his head into the air in some kind of defiance. "Whoa," he said softly to the horse then laughed a little bit up at Joss. "He definitely likes you, but not me."

Joss smiled and just shook her head. "No, that's not it. It's just that when you stand directly in front of a horse, because of how their eyes are set, they can't see you. So he didn't know you were even there, and then something touched him," She explained, and Tig began to feel some sort of odd kinship to horses, how being touched was always a surprise he didn't care for…unless it was Joss doing the touching. "Come over here, to the side of him, let him see that you're there, then give him a pat on the neck."

Tig didn't even really want to, he had nothing against horses, but his only interest them was more along the lines of…well…it wasn't like Joss's interest. But he was doing what she'd told him to do, standing almost behind the big, black horse's head, looking at him in his big dark eye that watched him with a surprising lack of suspicion…Tig wasn't used to that. Slowly he reached up, laying his palm and fingers against the muscle of the animal's neck, the horse turning to look at him a little more, but this time, he didn't pull away from him or toss his head. Joss smiled down at Tig, who realized, he was also smiling. "Hey big guy," he said softly, now rubbing the black hide, realizing that he'd never really bothered to try and…connect…with an animal like this…in the "normal" way. Joss smiled more and more, looking down at him, wind whipped strands of her black hair sticking all over from beneath the safety helmet she wore, the chin strap squishing her face a little, but there was still so much peace and power rested in her features, she was still so beautiful. His dark, sweet, perfect angel…she was the only one who could touch him, or at least, the only one he'd let get close enough to, because she was the only one who knew how. Joss was more than fucking perfect, she was fucking amazing.

"Oh my God, I don't know which one of you looked better!" Lauren's happy voice suddenly intruded into Tig's thoughts, and for a moment he was confused, wondering why and how he'd done something to look "better," and then realizing Lauren spoke of Joss and the horse she rode over that jump. The jump that Tig had been ready to see Joss come tumbling off of this horse while going over, but she hadn't, she'd gone with the motion of everything around her, and in doing so, hadn't let herself, or even the horse, fall. Again something chased away the rapture Tig felt himself enclosed in, and it was about God damn time something snapped him out of it…but he wouldn't have minded just another second or two. This time it had been the feeling of another pair of eyes staring at him, strangely and suspiciously. He looked up and Juice's Lauren was looking at him, but as soon as he had looked up, she'd looked away. Typical reaction out of anyone, he couldn't blame her…was glad to see he still "had it" despite everything else that had been floating around his mind at the time. Lauren looked back at him, but didn't really look at him. "Hi," she said, and smiled politely, but Tig could tell she wasn't at all comfortable around him. Huh…it really was just something about whatever magic Joss possessed, and not horse people in general.

Tig shot Lauren a nod, but didn't bother to say anything to her; he just looked back at Joss. It was unbelievable what she'd learned to become from horses and what they did for her…and in that, what they'd done for him. On the horse wall in her old bedroom, she'd had one of those plaques with a motivational saying kind of things, only the one in her old room had read, "Horses only spook at two things: Things that move, and things that don't." Tig had no understanding of what that meant, or if it was even supposed to be funny the first time he'd noticed it…but now, he began to realize, that plaque was describing him…and Joss, she understood how he saw things, how she couldn't make him do anything he didn't want to, and wasn't afraid to face any obstacle with him, and in doing so, she wouldn't let him fall. She knew how to make a lot of those spooky things okay. "Hey," he said, looking up at her like he was seeing her for the first time. "Can you come down from there?" He asked, overcome with the urge to be close to her.

Joss smiled, still, so happy to be riding once again, and dropped both of her feet out of the stirrups, lifting her leg over the horse's neck and slid down off of the saddle to her feet, instead of getting off the way Tig had expected, but she couldn't have looked more graceful as she hit the ground, then walked over to the fence, putting her foot on the lowest rail of it to climb over, but Tig just grabbed her in his arms then and there, hugging her tightly, and holding her for a few long seconds, trying to bury his face in her silky, raven hair at her neck, but remembering it was confined within a thick braid. "Joss," he managed to whisper to her, knowing he couldn't just keep holding her like this, with someone watching him do it. "Let's go home."

"I've got to put the horse up," she answered as he let go of her. "I drove myself, you can go; I'll be there soon." Joss promised, and her emerald eyes sparkled over his lips, wanting him to kiss her, but no, not here; he'd already done far too much, and all he knew about Lauren was who she was with and where she'd lived, refusing to let Joss come here to ride until he'd "checked her out" as he'd put it, telling Joss, "you don't know, she could have a husband over there who's FBI or something." Besides, he could see Lauren trying to figure out the strange embrace Joss shared with her man, his arms around her tightly, but her hands only gripping his forearms, not even trying to move passed his elbows. Tig eyed Lauren, and again she looked away. Only Joss knew how to touch him, only Joss understood, and only Joss had to. Besides, they'd be leaving soon, and when she was on the back of his bike…

Damn! She had driven herself! Fuck! And just when Tig was looking forward to throwing her on the back of his bike, and speeding away, with her arms snugly around him. What? No he wasn't! Fuck that shit! From now on, he'd bungee cord that bitch to the back of his bike so she didn't HAVE to touch him! Nope…she didn't HAVE to…fuck…this was a useless fight that he just couldn't win…never held the high ground, not even once. But part of him was always going to fight it; he knew that, it was beyond his control.

"Okay," he sighed, but hadn't meant to, looking at Joss, but looked over Joss's shoulder and gave Juice's Lauren a somewhat beckoning glance. God damn she was short…he was more than a foot taller than her…she was like one of those little people from those movies, with the ring…what were they called? Hobbheads? No. Hobgoblins? No. Blumpkins! No. Hobbnobbs? No. Blumpkins? What? Really? Aw fuck it; his name for her was just going to be "Hob-bitch." Yeah, he needed Hob-bitch for a minute, but not with Joss around.

He looked back at Joss again ignoring the startled look in Hob-bitch's eyes…hmm…Hob-bitch had a pretty decent rack, too! But no, that didn't matter, it was just an observation, his brain was hardwired to identify these things, he couldn't help it. Tig looked at Joss. "Go on down to the barn then, I'll be in the shower when you get home." He half smiled then pointed towards the barn, Joss understanding that he wanted her to go, but he pinned Hob-bitch to the spot with his eyes as Joss gave him a look before leading the horse she'd been riding away.

"Don't 'Tara' her!" She warned him, with a slight smile, then gathered up the reins in her hand and walked away, looking at Hob-bitch as she passed. "Don't worry," she told her. "It's you he wants to talk to, so just be you."

Tig smirked, it was fun being scary. But the apprehension in Hob-bitch's eyes was anything but amused. "Hey," Tig said to her, and she looked at him like she wasn't quite sure what to do, or if she should even be talking to him in the first place. Well, could he blame her? "No, it's cool. I know what Juice probably said about me, but I got mine," he glanced over at Joss as she and the horse walked out of the arena then again looked at Lauren. "Come over here, I just wanna ask you something."

"What?" Hob-bitch was still very tentative, but she'd walked over, stealing a glance at Joss and likely wishing she wasn't facing her old man by herself. Tig smiled, it was wrong for this kind of intimidation to make him happy, but damn did it make him happy!

"What's involved in owning a horse?" He asked her, leaning over towards the horse that Lauren still held, an older looking animal than the one he'd seen Joss riding, but now Tig knew the secret, stand to the side, let the horse see you, and then you could pet his neck…and damn if it hadn't worked again! He smiled as he patted the old horse. "Beautiful animal," he said to Hob-bitch, who smiled a bit now.

"Well, that depends." She said, and Tig could tell she liked to talk about this stuff as much as Joss did. "How much are you willing to spend for the horse itself?"

Hmm…he hadn't thought about that angle of it…most of what he needed or wanted was available to him in some…non-commercial way. But how the fuck could he steal a horse? The club sure as hell didn't deal in black market ponies. He looked at Hob-bitch. "How much is a good one?"

"Well, just like with bikes, 'good' is a relative term." Hob-bitch replied thoughtfully, and Tig smiled a bit more, liking the way she chose to explain this. Hob-bitch was kinda cool! "Just because you pay a lot for a horse, doesn't mean it's necessarily a 'good' horse for what you want or need. I mean, you can get thoroughbreds absolutely free from off the track a lot of times when they don't turn out to be what owners hoped they would. Racetracks throw away a lot young thoroughbreds in slaughterhouses every day, and a lot of them are good horses," she said, and Tig could tell how disgusted she was with the fact that it happened. Well, he saw her point, it wasn't fair, to be knocked off just because you couldn't perform to the rest of the world's specifications. But Hob-bitch wasn't done, "At least, they can be good horses once you get the crazy out of them."

Alright! This was perfect! Without knowing it, Hob-bitch had just said the magic word, and it wasn't 'free!' What other kind of horse was there out there for Joss? She needed a "crazy" one that she'd have to earn the trust of and patiently wait for it to come around and want to make her happy. And Joss…dark, sweet, vegetarian Joss, would love the whole 'spared from the slaughterhouse' deal, too! It was perfect! Tig smiled even more now than before. Hob-bitch really was cool, and she didn't even know why! "Yeah…" Tig said, his mind still working. "Now where do I keep it?"

"Joss said you guys have about three acres, that's more than enough room for one horse." Suggested Hob-bitch, her voice lighter in tone now, much more relaxed all over and talking to him like he was her friend's boyfriend, and not some cannibalistic lunatic. Fuckin' hell! Boyfriend? No, think horses…where to keep one.

Tig shook his head. "My place is all wooded," he answered. Trying to clear out a place for fencing and some kind of barn, and a place for Joss to ride was not going to be a possibility. Besides, he liked the trees, no grass to mow that way, and they kept everything dark. But Tig had confidence in Hob-bitch, she rocked; with her help this was going to be possible! As soon as he found a place to put a free, crazy thoroughbred, because his house wasn't an option…cuz, well, there was that other little problem. Tig looked at Hob-bitch, shaking his head at her again. "Besides, right there, at my house, wouldn't be good…I got issues."


	41. Payback Bitch

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 41

Opie was looking at her again, from behind the bar, which was kind of like their anniversary spot…it was the very first place Joss had seen him ever in her life, and Joss liked to think that was the last place she'd ever see him too. He was standing over there, talking to Chibs, but Opie was so fucking tall, he was able to look right over top the Scotsman's head and stare at Joss as much as he wanted to. Yeah, keep on staring, motherfucker…it would be the last time he did!

"Did you like, have something going on with that guy once?" Happy's Lauren asked, also noticing the attention Joss was getting from Opie. "He's hot! Doesn't look like all that much until the shirt comes off, but when it does…whoa!" She smiled and fanned herself with her hand, but then stopped and looked at Joss like she felt silly. "But I guess maybe you know that, huh?"

"What?" Joss nearly gasped. Shit…is that how Opie was looking at her? Like there'd been something between them that he fondly remembered, or maybe even hungered for again? God damn it…that was only a dream she'd had, right? Of course it was! And now other people were noticing that Opie looked at her, and they were reading shit like what Lauren had said into it? Fuck! Of course, it hadn't helped that Lauren was of the two people that had seen Joss elect to stay back and be alone with Opie at the party a week ago, like it was nothing. But that's exactly what it had been; nothing! "No! I've only ever belonged to or been with one reaper man! I swear to Christ!" Whoa! She hadn't meant to sound like she was throwing herself upon the mercy of the court!

Lauren looked at her like maybe she was trying to hide something. "Okay," she said awkwardly, but took a sip of her beer and relaxed. "Look Joss, I like you, and so I don't care if you had or have something going with him, it's okay."

"No, it really isn't!" Joss quickly replied, tangled in her anger and panic, how could anyone even imagine she'd do that to Tig? How could they think she'd betray the man who was everything to her? It was such a despairing thought that the rumors may get to be just that if Joss didn't take Opie out. She had to. And now she was so blinded and deafened by the tragedy of the whole situation, she hadn't gotten proper control of her tone, but making herself do that now, took a deep breath, sneered at Opie, then turned back to Lauren. "I'm sorry," she said. "It's just that talk like that around here, when you're patched, can get you into a lot of trouble, okay?"

Lauren nodded. "Now I'm sorry," she said. "And thanks for that warning, I mean, who knows, I could have a patch of my own some day."

"Really?" Joss smiled, looking away from Opie's stare one more time and just ignoring him now, or trying to, "things going really good with Happy, huh?"

Lauren nodded excitedly. "Yeah, they are!" She smiled, looking all mushy and delighted. "It must have been the shamrock inked behind my ear that brought me the luck I needed to get a guy like Hap!" She took another sip of beer, her eyes finding Happy across the clubhouse, who was embroiled in some seemingly hilarious conversation with Tig. "My killah from Tacoma!" Lauren beamed proudly as she watched him laughing with Tig. "He's so one thing on the outside, but then there's this other part of him that makes me chocolate waffles for breakfast and gets up at five in the morning to take a walk with me before I go to work." Lauren's smile couldn't have gotten any bigger than it was, but then something tugged at it a little. "Of course, I had to listen to how he once killed someone with a waffle iron, and during one of our walks he showed me where he'd dumped a body a few years ago…but still…"

Joss shrugged. "Tig surprises me with flowers every now and then," she said, then rolled her eyes. "The all-weather proof plastic kind," she raised her eyebrows at Lauren, "from cemeteries!"

Both girls looked at each other for a few seconds as if trying to decide who had it the creepiest, but before any verdict could be reached between them, they both burst out laughing. Lauren took Joss's hand, raising both Joss's and her own in victory. "We are sooooo lucky!" She said, and they burst out laughing again. "But really, what's the coolest shit that Tig has ever given you?" Lauren asked then smiled again. "And you can't say your patch!"

"Hmmm," Joss mused, it was an interesting question, but it wasn't a fair one for her to try to answer. Tig didn't really give her 'things,' at least, 'things' were not his greatest gifts to her, and Joss knew there was no way in hell that Tig would want her to sit here and be discussing how he opened up to her, how he let her know things about him that no one else did, that the brick wall he'd built around himself was still very much intact, but only now, Joss was inside of it with him. No, she wouldn't say that, Tig would kill her, and how did she even describe what that was anyway? What was the coolest thing he'd ever given her? That Tig wouldn't mind her talking about? She'd really have to think about this one. "You first!" she insisted to Lauren.

"Okay," Lauren smiled, and looked over at Happy for a moment with so much admiration in her eyes, Happy noticing she was looking at him, and then blowing her a kiss, which made Lauren smile even more than she was. "This is going to sound really stupid," she said to Joss, then blew her man a kiss back, Happy pretending to catch it, then stuff it into his mouth, chew it up and swallow it then pat his stomach, Lauren laughing at him. "He gave me a rocking chair."

"He did?" Joss couldn't believe it. Happy? Gifting a piece of home furnishings? How strange! She looked over at Happy, envisioning him in some sort of frock coat, with woolen trousers, a top hat on his head as he lugged a hand-carved rocker home to his beloved Lauren, who sat in her hoopskirt and taffeta dress, doing needlework. "Wow, I never figured him for an old fashioned kind of guy like that."

"He's not," Said Lauren, then began to shake her head and giggle like mad. "He's not!" Joss looked at her, waiting almost patiently for what that meant as Lauren fought to get control of herself enough to explain. "He gave me the chair so we could…" Lauren began to giggle again. "Sorry," she said then settled herself once more, keeping her voice low now. "It's a sex thing, he sits in the chair then I get in his lap, facing him…with my legs through the arms of the chair, and his…you know…you know where," she nearly began giggling again. "And we…rock the night away!" She half sighed, fighting off the laughter as she said it.

"God damn!" Joss gasped, but not because she was offended. She looked over at Tig again…how incredible would it be to sit astride him like that, their bodies that close, hearts beating against one another, mouths fused, just enjoying the closeness of one another's bodies as the chair did all the work? Oooooh! "I think Tig owes me a rocking chair!" She turned to Lauren and they both laughed again.

"I'll suggest to Happy that he suggest it to him for you!" Lauren smiled then gave Joss a little tap on the arm. "Okay, it's your turn now! What's the coolest thing Tig's ever given you?"

Joss smiled, laughed a little, her eyes squinting with naughty glee. The conversation had taken 'that' turn, and this was one thing Tig really wouldn't object to having get out about himself! "Well, you really wanna know?" She asked Lauren. "I mean, do you really wanna know?" She giggled, then took a quick glance at her man, his many ringed hand sitting leisurely against his thigh as he talked, unaware of what Joss's eyes searched out.

"Yeah!" Lauren replied excitedly, knowing this was going to be good.

Joss giggled again then took another deep breath, cleared her throat and sat up regally. She was the one with seniority here, and she was going to sound…mature…as she said this, even if it was terribly terribly high school girlish of her. "Tig is…well, let's just say any BIG promises he makes you, he can definitely keep!"

"Oooooooooh!" Lauren straightened her posture too. "Really?" She asked, and tried to steal a glance over at Tig without Joss noticing, but Joss noticed immediately…not that she minded…her man was something special, and he deserved to have women hungering after him for reasons that didn't involve needing someone killed. And huh…Tig had not so much confessed to having been with Lauren in the past, but he'd said he "maybe," and that "he didn't remember." But if he had been, Joss was pretty sure Lauren would have remembered this about him…it was something no woman ever forgot about a man! Joss smiled, Tig was hers, but it was satisfying to know that once again, between the two of them, she had the seniority of knowing more about something in SAMCRO. Lauren looked back at her, the devil in her bluer than blue eyes, making Joss understand what she was about to ask, and she was so eager to answer. "So…seven?" Lauren asked suggestively.

Joss shook her head, feeling herself start to want her man a little too much, and now wasn't the best time, he was busy with the guys, the hit on ATF and the Mayans went off tomorrow, and Tig needed to relax with his brothers before it all went down. But she looked back at Lauren and proudly said, "more like eight and a half!"

Lauren's eyebrows rose this time, clearly impressed, and intrigued. "Wow…" she answered. "So the rumors are true, huh?" Lauren then laughed, and so did Joss, not ever having fully realized that Tig may have had some other type of "legend" around these parts. Lauren started to laugh again, impishly. "That's a pretty big gun…did he have to register it?" And once more, both the girls cackled with laughter, unable to stop, until…

"Joss!" Said a familiar voice, as though its owner had been standing there for awhile, waiting to be acknowledged, Joss finally looking up and seeing Tara before her.

"Tara!" Joss jumped to her feet, immediately hugging her friend. "Wow, what are you doing here tonight? You didn't even say you were coming!" A quick glance over Tara's shoulder during the embrace revealed Juice and his Lauren, in a quiet corner, Lauren against the wall, her hands roaming over the reaper and rockers of Juice's cut as they made out, Juice's strong back all but shielding her from everyone's view. Joss began to smile, she and Juice's Lauren had such a great day together…and all of sudden that made Joss feel terrible. "Oh my God!" She exclaimed, letting go of Tara and looking at her. "I am so sorry! I never called you back today!" And she hadn't…her cellphone had been in the truck while she and Lauren were out riding, and then when Tig showed up and made it pretty clear he wanted her home to do some 'riding' of his own, the messages on her phone were the furthest thing from Joss's mind.

"Yeah, well," Tara sort of huffed and rolled her eyes. "I only called you like four times," she said, as if implying that wasn't enough to suggest she'd really needed to talk to Joss. Shit! Joss felt terrible, this truly hadn't been any time to not call Tara back…not with the way she'd sort of lectured her on property patches the other day. Tara was very intelligent, in fact, that was one of her downfalls, she just didn't know how to use it, or how to let go of it, and to have been schooled by someone, newly arrived on the SAMCRO scene that Tara had been trying to figure out for the last year, who was also nearly half her age…well, it just wasn't good for their relationship, Joss knew that. And now she hadn't answered Tara's call, or called her back on top of it all! Fuck…Joss was such a bad friend!

"Oh Tara," she said, looking down and shaking her head. "I'm so sorry, I was just so busy today, went horseback riding with Juice's Lauren," she explained, gesturing over to the couple still hungrily at one another against the wall, "that's Lauren, but she's got a mouthful of Juice, as it were," Joss smiled, hoping to distract Tara's hurt feelings, but it hadn't worked. "Oh I'm just so sorry, Tara! I am! And this is my other friend, Lauren," she pointed to the mocha skinned, curly haired girl next to her, wanting to introduce Tara into this little circle, to try and make her seem welcome. "And she and I just got talking and laughing so hard, that I didn't see you—"

"No," Tara tried to sound like it didn't bother her, but it obviously did. "I understand, you were busy, having a good time with your…" she looked uncomfortably at the Lauren Joss was currently with, "other old lady friends, who automatically fit into things around here."

Okay, Joss had screwed up, she knew that, and she was trying to apologize, but the longer it went on, the more and more she began to feel so depleted by Tara's attitude. "Tara, please don't be like this!" Joss begged, reaching out and grabbing her friend's hands. "It's not like that, and you know it isn't." She had more to say but something stopped her, the oddest feeling of something brushing her back as an object was set down beside her. A bottle of water had appeared on the table, and the cuff of Opie's leather jacket once more grazed her back, touched her patch, and seemed to move much slower over her body than it had to, almost lingering there like he had thoughts of pulling her firmly back against his chest, as he finally pulled his arm away.

"Still looking out for you," he'd whispered into her ear, making Joss instantly turn to glare fiercely at him, but all she saw was the reaper on his cut as he walked back over to the bar, gone, too far away to say anything to that wouldn't be noticed.

Tara stared at her wide eyed. "What was that?"

Joss sighed; she'd dropped Tara's hands, her own becoming fists. She looked back at Tara imploringly, she couldn't handle this all at once, not with so much she'd have to live up tomorrow for the good of the club and the good of her and Tig even more. "Tara, there's just been so much on my mind lately," she half whispered to her, wishing she could explain it all, wishing she could confide this to someone, but there was no vessel to hold this knowledge other than herself, but Joss could hold no more. "And that was a big part it."

Tara was still looking so shocked though. "But, I thought that with a property patch—"

"Tara!" Joss suddenly yelled, realizing all too late that she had. Great, first she lectures her then doesn't return her calls, and now she was yelling at her. Yeah, Joss was a great friend. But she was completely fettered here and now, nothing could be explained, but Joss made herself promise to tell Tara about this one day…when she'd understand why the decision Joss had made regarding Opie was the only one she could make. She hoped that Tara would get to where she would understand her dilemma and her solution some day. Okay, that was a good plan for 'some day,' but how did Joss fix 'now?' She looked at Tara again, feeling like she was on the verge of tears, and realizing in a sudden horrifying epiphany, that she didn't want to kill Opie. She just wanted him to stop it, to let her and Tig have what they had, didn't they deserve a little happiness after all they'd been through, both separately, and together? Who was Opie Winston anyway? A normal guy, a normal guy who liked her; a normal guy who expressed his concerns for her, a normal guy whom her mind had invited into her dreams…but, nothing had happened, nothing that gave Tig the right to kill him, but still put Joss in the position of having to. But how did Joss even know Opie deserved to die? Could she live with it after he did? Oh fuck…this is what she'd been so afraid of…losing her nerve.

No, she wouldn't think about it, it was like anything else, if she thought about it and worried over it, she'd only give it the power it needed to become something paralyzing. But…she didn't want to kill Opie…it was there now, a full term realization of how she felt about what she had to perpetrate. "Tara," Joss said again, her voice so much quieter and much more down trodden than before, realizing that Tara was all she had right now, her very first and therefore, the friend who'd been with her the longest! She had to fix this between them. She had to! But Opie…her sense of duty and premature sense of guilt were pulling Joss apart. "I'm sorry…I just…well, let's start this over, can we?" Joss asked, knowing that this attempt to apologize was anything but what it should have been, but she just felt so emotionally exhausted, had nothing left to push out the words and feelings that were needed between her and Tara. "I'm glad you're here, what brings you out?"

Tara's expression clearly looked as though she was expecting more than that, and she should have, but in her grace, Tara just shook her head a little, and tried to make herself smile and call a truce. "I got thinking about what you said the other day, about how the old lady, and how the way her man treats her, can really influence that man's recognition within the club," she said, but fidgeted as she did, like she didn't really believe it, or just didn't know how to make that happen. "So today at the last minute, I got thinking, 'I'm a doctor!' that should boost Jax's value up near the top, right?"

Oh no…no no no…Joss felt herself start to shake her head, but immediately stopped herself from doing anything that would seem disapproving. It wasn't easy, Joss's emotional strength was about topped out at the moment…it was all too much…just way too much on her to try and figure out, compensate for and justify. But Tara…well, she was trying…but what the fuck? She was moving in the wrong direction! Thinking of herself as something high and mighty walking among these lowly folk. She was a 'doctor,' everyone should probably bow down to her; she was the only 'doctor' in the room…that alone had Jax's election to President sewn up for sure…his old lady was a 'doctor'…no one else here could probably even spell 'doctor.' No, stop…don't think that way, or something bad would happen…Joss tried, struggled, fought to get those thoughts out of her head, but it wasn't easy, she was waning in strength…there were any number of tactful responses to what Tara had said, but Joss was far too thinly spread emotionally to tap into any of them; her MC common sense was standing up inside of her and shouting, "you stupid bitch, Tara! It's that attitude that's going to ruin Jax, and you, within this club!" But based on the sudden onset of blank faces around her, Tara's foremost of all, Joss came to realize that those words had been much more than just a private thought. Fuck!

Chapter 41; Part 2

Tig had sensed there was some kind of tension between Joss and doctor bitch tonight, though he'd only looked over at them a time or two. It didn't bother him, or surprise him; he'd tried to tell Joss that doctor bitch was unfixable. But she'd refused to believe that, holding to the noble bonds of friendship that Tig knew were only going to leave Joss with a broken heart. But, Tig hadn't even tried to stop Joss in her crusade to save doctor bitch, because he knew he couldn't. All he could do was watch and make sure doctor bitch didn't somehow drag Joss and her loyalties into a bad place within the club, and then be there as a shoulder to cry on when it all went to shit in Joss's hands. From the looks of things, it was getting there too. Fuck, why tonight of all nights? There was a lot on him tomorrow, and the last thing he needed was having to play nursemaid to Joss's hurt feelings all night. Fuckin' doctor bitch…this was really her fault! Why did she have to show up tonight?

Actually no, it was Jax's fault. He had to know he'd made a poor choice of old ladies, and he had to know the club hadn't exactly cozy-ed up to Tara either; that was evident if Jax just bothered to examine how quickly Joss found her niche and was met with nothing but adoration bordering on the scale of that which Gemma herself received. Jax had to know these things, and instead of trying to get his old lady under control, or just get a new one who knew the rules, he decided to bring doctor bitch out tonight? Well wasn't that fucking wonderful? Just what the club needed on the night before they had to take out ATF and the Mayans too!

Joss was feeling it all herself, Tig could tell that from across the room. He'd seen the look on her face; he'd seen her hands clutched into fists. He'd been sitting there, talking to Happy, and half ready to watch a girl-fight erupt, knowing what side he'd be on, but wondering how long he'd let it go on for. He'd love to see doctor bitch get her ass handed to her, that was exactly what she was in need of, but Joss…when she went spider monkey…whoa…there was no telling where that might end against someone who wasn't strong enough to get control of her.

And doctor bitch wasn't looking happy at all, whatever Joss had said had really twisted her shit, and doctor bitch had just folded her arms over her chest and cocked her head in that classic, "No you d'int" pose. Wow, something was about to go down, between his Joss and Jax's doctor bitch! How fucking stupid did that make doctor bitch? Challenging a patched old lady? Tig's patched old lady? A patched old lady that the club would do handsprings for to boot…Jesus fucking Christ, doctor bitch…look around, go introduce yourself to Hob-bitch, she was cool! Take a few notes and think about this! And then, much to Tig's disappointment, it seemed as though doctor bitch had done just that.

She'd suddenly sighed, literally thrown her hands up and then disengaged from Joss, turning and walking away from her, Joss watching her walk with a mix of anger and sadness on her face, sinking back onto the couch with Happy's Lauren, who put her arm around her shoulders the moment Joss covered her face with her hands, most likely crying her eyes out now. Shit…this wasn't the ending Tig had expected, not here anyway and this soon. He sighed, he had to get over to Joss and start mopping this up, do what he could to get her right, tell her it wasn't her fault; that some people just couldn't be saved, no matter how much anyone wanted to save them. He needed to fix Joss now, so he didn't spend all day tomorrow worrying about her while he was in the trenches, fighting for their way of life together. Tig got off of the stool he sat on beside Happy, saying he'd "be right back," and went to take a step towards Joss, but something stopped him. Doctor bitch herself!

"Hey," she said to him, and looked absolutely pissed, but not scared and put off like she usually was the moment Tig entered the room she was in. It was surprising, but also a little amusing in a disgusting sort of way. What? Coming over here to him to complain about his old lady had suddenly given doctor bitch a pair of balls? What a lousy, stupid, worthless cunt! Tig half sneered at her, but it didn't back her down; she obviously had something to say. Doctor bitch glanced back over at Joss then over behind the bar at Opie, and once more at Tig, like meaning he should connect the dots. Her face beyond serious, her voice level and informative, whatever it was, doctor bitch had no qualms about saying it. "I think there's something you should know…"


	42. Primate House

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 42

Tig woke feeling much more like eighty-two instead of forty-two. He was still lying in a heap on top of Joss, both of them on the bathroom floor. His head ached, so did his back…fucking floor. Christ…if he was sleeping on the bathroom throw rugs, while holding Joss pinned against the floor, then last night was no dream…that shit really went down. Fuck! He didn't want to remember it, but he knew he was going to. He'd start drinking now if it weren't for everything that he'd be needed for by the club today…why'd it have to be today? And why'd there have to be a 'last night?'

Joss didn't stir when he'd moved to sit up and get off of her, the weave of his shirt imprinted onto her arms and part of her face, the portion of her crookedly bent neck red in some places, and black and blue in others. She still lay as she'd fallen the night before, mouth still open in mid wail it seemed, her hands still clenched stiffly into claws…Tig's blood dried at the end of every one of her fingers, his blood on her lips, smeared across her cheek up towards her eyes that were streaked and completely covered in the mess her eye liner and mascara had become in the fray. There was so much black shadowing the sockets of her eyes, she looked like had sunglasses on. The long silky tresses of her black hair were a static-filled mess standing away from her head in places like some electric current was running through her body. And her skin, the only color it had was bruises and his blood that stained it. He'd always sworn he'd never hit her, never hurt her, and somehow, he'd kept that promise to himself, doing nothing more than subduing her, despite feeling like she'd killed him, like she'd shot him through the heart with that Glock he'd taught her to shoot, and let everything that he'd learned to let her be to him, and accept his feelings for her as, bleed out of him until he was emptier than empty inside.

He didn't worry about whether Joss was alive or not, he knew she was; it had actually been the pounding of her heart that had awakened him. One look at how still she was, compared against the rapid rate of her heart told Tig everything he needed to know. She wasn't dead, she wasn't passed out; she was in a catatonic state. He'd never seen her do this before and to his knowledge, this was the first time something had wrecked her so bad mentally that she couldn't go on, but Tig accusing her of betraying of him, of betraying their love, with Opie, had bombed the hell out of her consciousness until none of it remained. Her very first catatonic state, brought on by the horror of his belief that she'd do such a thing to him, to them. And she was catatonic; yup, it had been hard to tell given the amount of black smeared across her face, but those green eyes were open, staring off at something she couldn't even see right now…Joss was far far away, trapped inside herself, the last desperate refuge of a shattered mind. This was lasting a lot longer for Joss than it had for him the last time, but then, he'd hit her with some pretty big shit last night after they'd left the party. But now Tig had the answer he sought concerning it all, and it both made him overjoyed and repentantly horrified with himself. Joss hadn't betrayed him. His sweet, dark, perfect little angel was innocent.

But at what cost had he pushed to find out? How long was she going to lay there like this, frozen inside the havoc he'd set forth within her? She was outwardly strong, always had been better with people than he had, everyone noticed his damages, they were right there on the surface, but Joss was still able to hide hers; but she was frail nonetheless. And now, because of him, catatonia was one more thing that could be added to the list of her fragilities. She'd been like that all night; he himself had gone seventeen hours once, or so Clay had told him, right after Donna had been driving that truck. Tig hadn't meant to hurt Donna, he never wanted to hurt Donna…but he had, and that reality imploded within his sanity, like a tidal wave that crashed down on his psyche, sweeping everything away and holding him submerged within its depths until he could deal with it again…he was innocent of having meant to kill Donna…just like Joss was innocent of having anything going on with Opie behind his back. But Jesus fucking Christ…what if she never came out of this now; Tig knew it was possible.

He didn't even remember the words that doctor bitch had said to him about Joss and Opie, Tig only remembered what they'd meant. He had to do something, he couldn't just go on the good faith that Joss would never cut out on him, that would have destroyed him in the eyes of this club and every other MC there was. He was SAMCRO's SAA, that alone made it a death sentence for him, and the club, to be perceived as having "gone soft." Not to mention the reputation he'd spent years building for himself; he couldn't let something like this tarnish that. He'd scared, hurt and pissed off far too many people; if it looked like he couldn't take care of his own household, then he'd be dead for sure.

If he were a man…no, if he weren't a man in love, Joss would be dead right now instead of catatonic on the floor. Through the eyes of those that lived this life, just the very suggestion that an old lady, particularly property, was giving it away to another man was grounds to put a bullet in her head, without any proof of it needed at all. Tig could have done that; there wouldn't have been anything anyone could say badly about him if he did! But right now, he didn't care what anyone thought about him, he didn't care that even though Joss was innocent, there wouldn't be any blame placed on him for having roughed her up, it was his right, he owned her, he could beat the fuck out of her any time he'd like to without needing a fucking reason, and no one could tell him otherwise about doing it. But it didn't matter now, his rep wasn't damaged, but Joss may have been…he just wanted her to come out of this.

Chapter 42; Part 2

"Tell me about Opie." He hadn't talked to her the whole way out of the clubhouse, or on the way home, not even when they'd gotten into the driveway and walked into the house. He'd just grabbed Joss by the patch and dragged her everywhere he went, taking her into their bedroom now, where finally he spoke.

He'd watched her shrivel up inside at his question, her expressions rapidly changing, an amalgam of everything she didn't want to tell him, standing there barely able to breathe. "It's nothing."

"My ass, it's nothing!" He'd replied curtly, stepping closer to her and leaning over her despite how scared he knew she was already. "Why the fuck you protecting him, Joss? What, you suckin' his dick or something?"

She shook physically, held up her hands to him. "No! I swear to God, Tig! Why do you think I'd do that to you?"

He hadn't given her that long to talk or explain anything before he'd grabbed her by the throat and slammed her back against the wall, holding her there a lot more viciously than the last time he'd done it to her. "Listen to me," he loudly growled; his face in hers. "I know! He's been hanging around you all fucking night, staring at you, touching you, getting you water, whispering little promises in your ear!" The words coming out of his mouth were fueling Tig's already napalm like anger and he tightened his grip on Joss's throat, pulling her away from the wall for a split second before slamming her back against it even harder this time, his voice even louder, "why the fuck is he doing that, you little cunt?"

Joss was now crying so hard she was beginning to hyperventilate, and it didn't help that he was likely cutting off a lot of her oxygen too, but Tig couldn't stop, was surprised that he'd been able to hold himself back even this much. Her make-up was smudged across her face, her cheeks and forehead turning red. "I don't know." She'd barely been able to reply.

He'd been ready for her to deny all knowledge of anything Opie was doing, anyone who was fooling around with anyone always did that. And that Joss with her "I don't know" answer was heading down that exact path, and it really set Tig off. He pulled her away from the wall, still holding her throat, and then threw her to the ground, standing over her as she coughed and gasped. "I told you," he shouted down at her, pointing his finger at her with each word as if he were whipping her with something. "You tell me if there were any problems with him!" And he had, and the little bitch had nodded her head and said, "yes," she'd do just that. So why hadn't she? Because there had been no problems with what Opie was doing; that was the only explanation. Joss wanted Opie's attentions, she enjoyed them, had convinced Tig of her love and loyalty and perfection, and all the while smiles and words and other decadences more heinous than that had been shared with Opie…and she'd made Tig love her for it! He kicked at her, somehow not able to hurt her still, though she'd hurt him much deeper than he'd ever been hurt before this, his foot connecting with her hip, but instead of bringing the brutality he'd wanted to take to her, all he'd done was flip her over from where she'd tried to hide from him, face down on the carpet. "Why didn't you tell me?" He raged, crouching over her like a lion with a gazelle clamped in its mouth. "Why? Because you didn't want your little bitch boyfriend to get fucked up, is that it?"

Joss somehow found the strength to lift her shoulders up off of the floor, looking up at him with pleading eyes. "I couldn't tell you," she said, didn't yell, but just said, tears everywhere on her face. "I wanted to, but I couldn't."

"What the fuck does that mean?" Tig exploded with the question, shoving her hard into the floor, her head bouncing off of the carpet once, and somehow he managed to be grateful the carpet was there. Why did he care? What? Did some part of him believe her? Or did he just want to believe her, because it hurt too fucking much have to believe she'd do this to him instead? Or was she only trying to distract him? To make him feel like her fucking Opie was really somehow his own fault? How fucking dare she even make him think that's what she was doing! That little bitch…he'd told her when he'd given her his patch, begged her, "don't make me regret this," and now she had! Tig was so angry and blinded in his pain that he couldn't think about anything anymore, he couldn't fathom why she'd said anything she'd said, or what it meant, he only remembered he'd always known he'd never be able to hurt her…and at that moment, he really wished he could!

He was missing a substantial chunk of time after that thought, along with a lot of the words he said, but he'd done, or said, something that pushed Joss over her edge, and through her tears and her hyperventilating breaths, he'd heard her exhale slowly and lowly, a guttural sound emanating from her throat that he hadn't quite herd ever before; beginning as some low, malevolent rumble but ending up some long, painful, cry of a wounded animal. She was trembling, shaking like something was about to explode out of her. Her mouth opened, eyes squeezed shut, and she screeched, louder than anything he could remember hearing ever in his life, eyes glassy, teeth bared, each finger arched into a weapon, and from the ground below him, Joss managed a vicious swipe at him, connecting with his cheek and tearing through his skin, leaving three perfect claw marks that stretched from his nose to lower jaw. His blood dripped down against her face and chest, but she took notice, she was no longer Joss, there was nothing left other than some…angry, terrified, wounded beast.

Shit! In his own berserk-ness, Tig had forgotten all about the spider monkey, but here it was, and he had to get away from it before it sliced him up. She was stronger than she normally was when it took her, like she changed into something brought out by the full moon, and the way she was wailing and flailing her arms, faster than he was able to pin them down, Tig knew retreat was the only option. He'd pushed her down, hard, hearing her head thump against the carpet again, a little harder this time, and then scrambled for the closest exit, which was the bathroom, ducking and rolling into it and slamming the door shut behind him, reaching up and turning the lock. His face burned like Joss had taken a blow torch to it, and he was still so angry and so hurt himself, but also frustrated. But now, there was some brief and odd sanctuary from the madness; Tig able to begin to think a little now that Joss was no longer in front of him. But she was still there, beating on the bathroom door like a lunatic woman, screeching and wailing and probably saying something that no one could have interpreted due to the high pitches of her voice. Fuck! He hadn't seen this coming…but why? He knew it was in her, he'd seen it before…it was the very reason that she'd been sold and traded around by so many clubs so many times…she was an amazingly beautiful girl, but when she got angry…and then Tig realized why the transformation had come as such a surprise. Joss only went spider monkey when she was angry, so angry that she couldn't contain it, and it just exploded into some treacherous energy that took her over. But she hadn't been angry, never once even tried to defend herself, or Opie, in what she'd said. She hadn't even denied anything. If she'd had something to hide, she wasn't doing the generic kind of stuff guilty parties did.

The bathroom door reverberated against his back with both Joss's drumming fists and her screeches and wails, Tig trying to catch his breath and make sense of this, wondering if he'd just made a mistake, wondering if doctor bitch had said what she had only to cause problems for Joss tonight after the disagreement the girls had apparently had. Fuck! Hadn't he sworn he'd try to think about shit with Joss before he just acted out? What the hell had happened to that?

And then another terrifying thought occurred to him, and this one needed no speculation…the banging on the door behind him had stopped, and there were now footsteps bounding away from that door, out of the bedroom and bump, bump, bumping down the hall…to the other bathroom door! Fuck! He quickly lunged for that door, managing to catch the handle and slam it closed, but not fast enough, Joss bursting through it, black hair flying, black, eyeless sockets above a mouth full of teeth, the claws of the other hand digging into his neck, pushing him backwards as she dove on him, his arms instinctively going up to shield his eyes and face, and Joss, like a horror movie zombie, bit him on the forearm, sinking her teeth in deep and trying to bite out a chunk, all but kneeling on top of him as she still tried to wail and screech with a her teeth embedded in his arm, so focused on removing at piece of him that Tig was able to frantically shift his weight and quickly flip her to her back, rounding up her slashing claws as he pushed his forearm into her mouth until she gagged and spit it out, blood everywhere, but he had no time to think about it. He managed to keep her still somehow, standing half way up, and putting his knee down on her neck, keeping her staked to the ground with all his weight…until Joss no longer moved. The spider monkey quieted, went rigid and stiff, but it was still in Joss's face as she lay there. This was different from the other times Tig had seen it happen, much crazier and much hungrier to cause hurt and pain than ever before…because mirrored what she was feeling inside. No, this time it hadn't been about anger. It had been about a broken heart.

Chapter 42; Part 3

Tig hoped the bathroom door leading out into the hallway was sufficiently braced. The bathroom door leading into the bedroom was easy, he'd just moved the headboard and the bed in front of it; there was no opening that door from inside the bathroom. But the hallway door…well, he'd tried to nail it shut, Joss was still good and catatonic, so it wasn't like the banging was going to "wake" her…although, it would have been nice if something did.

The damn door frame itself was some kind of cheap ass pressed wood, and the nails he hammered into it only popped out again when a little force was applied to the door, and he knew Joss would be out and running free in no time that way. He couldn't account for how or when she'd come to, or what she'd be when she did, and there was no way he was letting her leave the confines of the bathroom, for her own safety. He'd removed everything he could fathom her hurting herself with, just incase in his absence, she turned her heartbroken rage on herself. He'd even cut her fingernails as she lay there, noticing that she was in Counterhold, her catatonic state making her resist whatever directional movement he tried to push or pull her into, her clawed up hands only retracting closer towards her body the more he pulled at her wrists. He wasn't sure what that meant, if it was good or bad, because he'd been told that his symptoms were sitting just like a stone, no movement at all. Joss would be angry with him for ruining her beautiful black manicure, but if it meant stopping her from digging her eyes out, it was worth it.

But the hallway door…that was still something Tig didn't feel secure about. Nails hadn't worked, glue was a stupid idea, but then, so was the chair he'd tucked under the doorknob and balanced on two legs in the hall. He'd wrapped six bungee cords around the doorknob itself, putting what he hoped would be equal tension to both the left and the right so that if Joss did come out of and grab the doorknob, it wouldn't turn. He owed it to her to keep her safe…given what he'd done to her…this time. There was nothing more he could do for as far as the catatonia, she'd come out of it…he hoped, she just had to be kept secure. But making her catatonic wasn't the worst of what he'd done…he'd doubted her, and he'd accused her, he'd believed that she'd betrayed him, and that had broken her, heart and mind.

Tig wished he could have stayed, just sat there on the floor with her and waited for her to come to, but the club needed him. In a way, that was good. There was no distracting him from this, but it did give him some way to try and make this up to Joss, he'd fight valiantly for her out there today, maintain the club, maintain his life with her…and Jesus fucking Christ, that's what Tig wanted most of all! She was innocent, she wouldn't have snapped like this if she wasn't. It hadn't been fear for her life at having had some affair with Opie being discovered; he'd already seen Joss when she believed that Tig had come to collect from Jax's old bedroom, take her away and kill her, she was fretful and crying then, but there was no spider monkey, no mental break. No, her current state hadn't been promoted by any fear; it was about heartbreak. And that Tig understood.


	43. Double Coverage

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 43

Jocelyn had done everything she was supposed to do, everything she was trained to do, and everything she'd memorized how to do. Her coach stood off stage with that doofy-looking blond hairstyle, all long and wavy with just the right amount of height on top…height…Jocelyn hated "height"…it looked like a fricking bump on the top of her head…but pageant queens had "height!" One day, Jocelyn was going to escape this, all of it, and she was going to run so far away from it from all…and have poker straight hair…no curl, or wave or "height" whatsoever. But her coach, Madison, of course didn't know that and couldn't have understood it anyway, she was a joke, thirty-one years old and still all about winning a crown…but now coaching someone else to a win was the closest she'd ever get to that again. Madison…what a stupid name…but Madison stood there, pointing to Jocelyn and looking so pathetic as she smiled an overdone smile, reminding Jocelyn to look up and be perky. Christ…Jocelyn had already proven she wore an evening gown like no other teen, she had a body that rivaled some Playboy Centerfolds, and she was the smartest girl on this stage, too. None of these other hyped up little cocker spaniels on speed standing on this stage with her had been able to take the trite and stereotypical beauty pageant notion of "world peace" and assign each nation a numerical value, and work the entirety of them into a massive proportion. On a blackboard with a piece of chalk, before the eyes of the audience and judges, Jocelyn actually workout what it would take to achieve such an idealistic concept…but that proportion was always left unbalanced…always.

Her father, and Madison, were always both so angry with her for ending her talent-schtick in such a way, had mocked up a way for her to give everyone that happy ending that her math routine naturally lacked, leaving everyone with some sunshine blown up their asses by showing them how world peace was so much closer than expected to being a reality…but live on stage and by herself, Jocelyn could do what she damn well pleased, and what she believed. Decrease the population by about ninety percent, then maybe there'd be "world peace," because the unmatched and un-reconcilable variable in the equation was always the same factor; the human factor itself. Everyone was someone, and in that, everyone was individual, everyone had their own plan, and "it" was never going to happen to any of them, until "it" did, and then "they" only looked for someone else to blame for "it." It may not have been the happy Hallmark ending the judges were always said to want, but it worked, impressed everyone who saw it, and she was always described as being "disturbingly practical." She was saving the world in her own way, by waking everyone the fuck up!

In the audience was her father, smiling up at her and waving a pair of crossed fingers, looking so supportive, just like the wonderful father everyone who knew him, or knew of him, would have testified that he was; Doctor Donald MacQueen, psychiatrist to the rich and famous, and big time pageant dad. He'd helped countless numbers of unhappy and sick people, saved a marriage a day, could help anyone over an irrational fear in only a session, maybe two, and once talked a complete stranger out of committing suicide on a crowded subway train, finally ending a day long standoff that even the best police negotiators had failed to curtail. And no one, not even the strongest critics about child beauty pageants, questioned whether "allowing" his daughter to take part in such a competition was somehow damaging to her self-image, or skewed her understanding of the values in life…nope, of course not…her father was the wisest and most understanding, and most supportive, man in all the world. His kid was lucky to have him, she would grow up to be the most secure and stable individual in all the world.

"And that leaves only one left," the dork in the tuxedo was holding another card in his hand, smiling into the microphone, the tension thick in the air, so many hearts pumping and pounding around Jocelyn, all of these stupid girls, wishing, hoping, praying that their name was about to be called…all eyes on the crown sitting atop of the perfect hair of last year's smiling winner, who waved to the group of eager contestants like she was royalty. Joss smiled still, trussed into her sequin studded evening gown of purple silk…purple because it would bring out her green eyes so well. God she hated this smile, there was nothing of any emotional value in it, she could do anything with that piece of shit smile on her face now it seemed, but her eyes were distracted by movement at the very back of the auditorium, back behind where an enthusiastic crowd sat on the edges of their seats…someone was moving in the darkness, walking towards an exit door, dressed in black, his hand gripped the long bar of the door handle, and for a moment he turned and looked back at the stage. Tig!

"And the new Teen Ms. Mariposa County is…" but Jocelyn was already smiling more genuinely than she had been the entire night now, and she didn't care about what name was on the announcer's lips. Tig…he'd slipped in the back door, and was waiting just long enough for the end of this before he slipped back out. "Jocelyn Inez MacQueen!" Tig was gone before they'd said her whole name, not reacting to any of it, but it wouldn't have mattered if he did, Jocelyn wouldn't have been able to see the look on his face, the former Teen Ms. Mariposa County rushed over to her, and then the rest of the stage rushed her, there were far too many stupid girls around her for Joss to even watch Tig leave, but she knew he had. Madison and the honorable Doctor MacQueen were now on stage with her, hugging her, kissing her, everyone was so happy, so excited and so proud…except for Jocelyn, who in her mind had slipped out that back door with Tig.

Applause, applause, applause…and it was making her hands hurt. But why? Jocelyn wasn't applauding herself on yet another big-fucking-deal win, how could she with her father holding her free hand as she clutched those stupid, fake roses to her chest with the other? And then the strangest sensation came over her, everything just stopped around her, and she was shooting upwards, felt like she'd just launched off of the stage and burned right through the atmosphere, her head snapping upwards and realizing that she'd somehow landed on the floor by the bathtub, every muscle twitching, her spastic hands banging into the tub again and again until her knuckles were beyond red. What was happening? She tried to stop moving, but she couldn't, at least, not right away, it was like some kind of…seizure. Her entire body shook, her eyes now rolling back in her head and making her feel dizzy, and then all of a sudden, it was over, she was free of it, but what the hell had happened?

Chapter 43; Part 2

Sulfuric acid, it had been one of the things that was present the night that she and Tig had truly bonded, working together to cover her father's murder. She'd found and given Tig a bottle of drain clog remover which he'd soaked her father's severed fingers in, removing the skin that would have yielded prints, and now sulfuric acid was about to remove Joss from her confinement in the bathroom. But something still felt wrong inside…inside her head…Joss wasn't quite herself; she could think and act and solve the problems in front of her, but something was…disconnected. But she had to get out of here, she wasn't sure how to fix this feeling she had, but she knew she couldn't do it from in here. But, there was no budging either door, she just wasn't strong enough. She just had to get out of here, she had to kill Opie, she had to prove to Tig now that there was nothing between her and Opie, and that was her total motivation now. Clear her name, clear Tig's suspicions, and try to rebuild what she and Tig were. But he'd obviously wanted to keep her in here, to come back and kill her she would have assumed, but a bullet to the head as she'd laid…like that…on the floor wouldn't have taken that much of his time, and would have been an easy mess to clean up in the bathroom too. But no, Tig hadn't shot her, and maybe that meant he wouldn't. Still, she had to kill Opie…clandestine, staged, friendly fire set up be damned, she just wanted Tig to know she'd pulled the trigger, that she'd put a bullet in Opie's head…for Tig…for them. Whatever came after that would come, but as long as Tig would know she loved him and that she'd never ever betray him, Joss didn't care what danger she'd be in, or what dues she'd have to pay.

The door leading out into the hallway wasn't as heavily barricaded as was the door into the bedroom. The hallway door was only braced nearest to the doorknob itself, and the doorknob wouldn't turn. But there didn't seem to be anything across the other side of the door, where the hinges were. She could pour the drain clog remover on the metal and let it eat through it, but that would take hours, and it was time she definitely didn't have. Joss quickly looked around the bathroom, discovering she had a box of matches for the candle she sometimes lit when Tig did join her in her bath, as well as the shower curtain rod. Fantastic, she had the makings of a very simple bomb!

Fuck…she'd likely used too much drain clog remover! Joss watched it dripping down the hinge and the door, puddle-ing on the floor…it was the damn gel kind, and it had been hard to maneuver the huge bottle it came in and direct the thick, almost syrupy stuff only onto the top of the door hinge. A little bit of panic began to set in, for she wasn't sure now what exactly she'd made, or how much hydrogen gas the breakdown of the metal by the sulfuric acid would produce. But she'd know as soon as she lit a match…too much, and what Tig thought or didn't think about her and Opie wouldn't matter…because Joss would be gone…and so would most of the house! But, she had to try. There was no living without Tig anyway, and if there was even the slightest chance that she could fix this, Joss was going to!

She yanked the shower curtain rod down, sliding the curtain itself free, then pulling off the little plastic guard piece on the very end of the rod, so thrilled to see that the rod itself was a rolled piece of metal with a slender split that ran the length of it where the metal had been rolled once and then cut. Perfect! She took a deep breath; half cowered in the corner by the tub, away from the door with the acid dripping all over the hinge, lit a match, and then wedged it into the split seam of the shower curtain rod. Slowly she extended the rod, hoping it would reach, hoping it wouldn't be too willowy to support itself, hoping she wouldn't have to stand too close to the door…hydrogen gas was incredibly combustible…Jesus…this had to work! Joss drew what could have been her last breath, shoved the match at the acid and the hinge…with black and white news footage of the Hindenburg replaying in her head…oh, the humanity!

Chapter 43; Part 3

The aftershock of the blue steel Taurus in his hand rattled up his arm and made that chunk Joss had tried to bite out of him feel like it might just fall out on its own, but Tig was focused, striding calmly from the first kneeling and crouched over Mayan he'd shot in the back of the head over to the next; bang, and the bite mark on his arm vibrated and pulled away from the dried blood around it, but Tig paid no mind to it, strode up behind the final Mayan rat, pointed the Taurus, bang, and blood now ran down over the back of his hand from beneath his sleeve. Shit…now he'd have one more thing to try and explain. The claw marks on his face and neck had been pretty apparent, and even though there was a certain amount of hustle on the part of the club to head the ATF van off at the pass and hijack them here to the abandoned logging camp, everyone wanted to know what had happened. It had to seem a bit strange; no one knew anything, Tig was too shocked and angry to get the chance to say anything to anyone about what doctor bitch suggested was going on between Opie and his perfect, innocent little Joss…Jesus Christ…was she still a fallen statue on the bathroom floor? No, he couldn't think about that now, this was far from over, Stahl hadn't been in the van, she'd been following in another vehicle, alone; that vehicle suddenly unaccounted for!

"Shit, man!" A voice pulled Tig all the way back from his extracurricular worries. "You hit?" Opie stood there, a gun in one hand that was down at his side, pointing to the blood that dripped from Tig's fingers with the other. Opie! Tig felt a whole new kind of hate consume him; he'd fucking kill Opie! Tig turned to him, the Taurus still gripped in both his hands, and still pointed as if he intended to fire, right into Opie's chest. It was a beautiful, close range shot…but no, not here…and not that fucking quickly either, Opie needed to suffer first, more than he thought he already had.

Tig lowered his gun, slowly, part of him still not believing he wasn't taking the shot at Opie…again…but this time it was different. Stahl was still out there, and they'd likely need every man; Opie could still be useful to the club. "Maybe," Tig looked at the blood as it ran from beneath his cuff, spilling down in fat droplets from his wrist and knuckles. His arm throbbed like a white hot knife blade stuck out of his flesh, his little finger was numb, but Tig didn't care, he'd gladly suffer these pangs of guilt…hell, he'd cut his whole fucking arm off and gift it to Joss if it meant she'd come out of catatonia! Joss…please God…she had to come out of it, she had be herself again, and please, please, please, more than anything else, Joss had to still love him. As long as Tig had that, he had everything! Opie…he'd tried to take Tig's  
"everything" away though…it was brilliant, Opie'd likely figured he could eventually make Tig so jealous and angry and put him in the position of having to save face, and Tig would end up killing the thing he loved most in life himself…an eye for an eye, and Opie'd never have to pull the fucking trigger! Fucking bastard! Nothing was going to come between Tig and Joss, nothing! And if something tried to…no, not now, focus on finding Stahl. Tig looked back at Opie, giving him a nod. "I'm good."

Opie looked at him like he didn't believe him. "Can you ride?"

A cold, strange smile crossed Tig's face, his upper lip curling at the corner and he stared at Opie like there was nothing and no one else around them. "I can do a lot of things."

"Tig! Ope!" Clay shouted, he and Chibs both dragging the body of the agent driving the van over towards the Mayan rats Tig had cleanly executed. "Sack, Juice and Bobby can handle cleaning up here and ditching the van, Jax, Chibs and Happy are out scouting for Stahl. You and Ope head back to the clubhouse, make sure everything's secure."

"No problem," Opie had been the first answer, giving Clay a dutiful nod, holstering his weapon and heading towards his bike.

"Yeah," Seconded Tig, but his eyes followed Opie, staring right into the invisible ten ring on his back…Tig couldn't help but smile; this was perfect! He was about to show Joss everything he couldn't express with words.


	44. Misfire

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 44

She probably shouldn't have been driving…Joss was still not herself, felt like some unseen and unknown force was going to make her turn the wheel sharply and suddenly, and she'd go flying off the road at seventy miles an hour…but she fought to keep her focus. Opie…kill Opie…win Tig back! She had a vague memory of realizing that she didn't want to kill Opie earlier…earlier wasn't now…Joss really wasn't aware of what time it was, what day it was, or how long she'd even been driving…but now, she had no feelings or qualms about killing Opie, none at all. She was just going to do it, in front of Tig, so he'd know. God, if she lost Tig…

No, she was doing it again, thinking negatively about something, feeding it with her fear and bad energies, and if she wasn't careful, it would bloom into some giant monster that would swallow her whole. Opie, kill Opie…win back her man, it was that simple. It was the only reason she existed now, Joss was an automaton; kill Opie, win back Tig.

Her recognition was slow, but things were gradually beginning to look familiar. Shit, she could have sworn she was at least halfway to the logging camp, but no. She was only just now coming up on the garage and clubhouse…it didn't seem possible, but it obviously was. Just because it felt like she'd been driving for twenty minutes didn't mean she had been…she wasn't even aware of how long she'd laid like a petrified tree on the bathroom floor, or how long it had taken her to blow the door off of the hinges. All she was sure of was that it was dark now, and the green digital lighted numbers of her clock in the Explorer reported that it was after ten o'clock. Fuck! What if everything had already gone down? What if she'd missed the only chance she had to make this right?

And something wasn't right though, but this time it wasn't with all the crossed wires in Joss's head, but it was with the way the clubhouse just…looked to her as she drove past. There were two bikes on the lot, nearest the building, but there was also a lone black sedan that Joss had never seen before. What was that? Who was that? The Explorer screeched to a halt in the middle of the street, Joss for a moment assuming she'd been hit by an oncoming vehicle, but realizing that she was standing on her brake, and the truck had stopped under her own power. And now she sat back and watched as her hands turned the steering wheel, some part of her in control of her body while yet another hovered above and looked on, unable to fathom what would happen next. It was like the truck drove itself, but she could feel her foot on the accelerator and her hands making the turns, but how or why, Joss had no comprehension of. The engine revved and Joss watched out the driver's side window as the clubhouse reappeared, the Explorer slowing and pulling onto the garage lot as if by remote control. Even as she was so…separated from herself, Joss knew not to park anywhere near the clubhouse…if something was going on that wasn't right, why announce her presence?

The truck kept driving, all the way around to the back of Teller-Morrow Automotive, finally stopping amongst the repos and break downs hauled in by the tow truck and flatbed. She'd have to walk all the way over to the clubhouse, but at least no one would know another vehicle had arrived. And at least she had her Glock. Wow…she'd been shocked to find it still in her closet, wrapped up with a black bandana and buried in an old make up case; she'd been certain that if Tig had gone as far as to lock her inside the bathroom, he'd have likely taken her gun too. But no, he must not have counted on her waking up, or getting out. Poor guy…she was a genius, he just didn't know quite the lengths of what he was dealing with there…he also didn't know that they were going to need a new hallway door for the bathroom…and a new doorframe…and some replacement drywall inside and outside of the bathroom…but the house as a whole was intact! Well, hopefully that would all matter to him, if it did, then it meant she and her man were fine, that he still loved her, that he understood that she'd never hurt him like that, that she loved him far deeper than even Joss herself understood.

It was a fairly long walk from the garage to the clubhouse, at least, it had always felt like it was when she and the girls hiked over to the lady's room at parties, but Joss suddenly found herself on the dark parking lot, frozen in front of two S.O.A. bikes, one of them Tig's. It was like some strange mirage that she had to touch to make sure it was even real, smoothing her fingers over the fuel tank painted flat black, tracing the letters S.O.A., her eyes following along the snaking exhaust pipe with its distinctive matte black finish. There had never been any frills, no extra-attention getters, on Tig's bike; just pristine darkness. Tig…she felt herself start to tremble and want to cry, this was as close to him as she'd been for…she didn't know how long, and what if it was as close to him as she'd ever be again? She reached out, touching the throttle, remembering how his hand, bearing all his rings, had always looked while gripping it, remembering how he had always looked better on a bike than any other man she'd ever seen. Tig…Shit! His bike shouldn't be here if none of the others were! He shouldn't be here!

Chapter 44; Part 2

"Dorms are secure," Opie reported, gun at his side as he returned to the main room of the clubhouse, Tig stopping in front of the pool table, on his way to search the chapel, just incase. He'd hoped to be done scoping out everything before Opie returned from searching the dorms, it would have been the perfect place to tap him; Opie searching Tig's old dorm, forever. But no, Tig had missed that window, but he wasn't as angry with himself as he perhaps he should have been. He couldn't help it, there was some greater sense of something not being okay in here tonight, and it wouldn't go away, no matter how much nothing their search was turning up. He'd have blamed his worry over Joss's condition and how she'd be when and if she came out of it, but he was now well acquainted with the taste of that fear, and this was not it. Something was wrong in the clubhouse, and until he and Opie found out what, Opie got to live.

"Look again!" Tig ordered gruffly, Opie's earlier assurance only serving to key him up even more. He turned back towards the chapel, looking at everything, the bar, the ceiling, the walls. "I'm telling you, something ain't good here, man…"

"What are you basing that on?" Instead of moving out, Opie stood there asking stupid fucking questions; god damn pussies that had never paid their dues in the military…they had no idea how to give orders, and even worse, had no idea how to take orders either! Tig didn't need this, and he couldn't deal with it either, something wasn't right, and it may have been beneficial to have someone to back him up as he tried to determine what was haunting this clubhouse tonight, but there was just no fucking way this was going to last any longer than it already had. Opie had been harassing his Joss, had been scaring her so badly that she felt like she couldn't even tell the man that owned her about what was going on. He'd tried to take away what was Tig's by making Tig the one who would forever deprive himself of the girl he loved. Opie had tried to hurt Joss, and Tig had sworn that he'd never let anyone hurt her ever again…and he wouldn't. Opie…he'd fucking kill Opie…and now was as good a time as any. Tig straightened a bit more, held the Taurus more firmly, pivoting around with the gun cocked, the end sight square on Opie's forehead, his finger on the trigger, pulling back with even pressure, waiting to be surprised by the gun going off…and then he was.

The Taurus dropped from his hand a split second after a cinder block seemed to have been hurled against his shoulder, followed by an unbelievable burning sensation that seemed to rip all the skin right off of his entire arm, taking Joss's bite mark with it. He could still feel his hand, his forearm, but there was nothing but smoldering, penetrating hell from his shoulder to his elbow, and blood ran like water from a faucet. Holy fuck…how had Opie gotten off that shot? He'd never even seen the motherfucker raise his gun.

"No," A woman was speaking, her voice calm and smug, she was coming up from behind Opie, who had thrown down his own gun and raised his hands. Tig in his mix of pain and surprise could only focus on the sensible low heeled shoe and linen slacks, but he knew who was wearing them. June fucking Stahl! "That's not Opie's bullet in your shoulder, Tigger." She said with a sarcastic grimace, holding a gun on both he and Opie, directing them over into the same vicinity. "Sorry, but things weren't looking very friendly between the two of you, and I need both of you alive."

Fuck! Why in hell was it that just when it seemed like things couldn't get any worse, they just got fucking worse? At least the bullet wound in his shoulder was beginning to lessen in the way it made his arm spastically throb, it was only a flesh wound, Tig could feel that now, but shit…flesh wounds still burned like Satan's finger shoved up the ass! Jesus Christ…Joss…Tig just wanted Joss…he had to get to her, fuck Stahl, and fuck Opie…if he was about to be hauled off to federal prison for the rest of his life, he had to see Joss one more time, and tell her one more thing. Maybe the others would show up? Maybe Jax would actually earn some value tonight and track Stahl back to here? Fuck! Damn it! Joss…was she okay?

"Now," Stahl sighed and leaned against the bar behind her, she looked a bit frazzled herself, held her forehead in her hand for a brief second as the other gripped her weapon, that Tig noticed, was not any standard issue he'd ever seen…shit…this really was fucked up! "I may never know how successful my career could be because the Sons of Anarchy are always finding a way to make me look a little worse in the eyes of my superiors each time I get close to nailing you guys," she said, her voice calm, but her eyes bulging with her frustration and anger. "Don't ask me how I knew, but wouldn't you know I just did? I lose a van full of VIP's, and I thought, 'I bet I know where to look for them!'" Stahl said as if she were recommending a new product to a desperate friend. "So, since I have you two 'brothers' here, alone and unarmed, I'm going to ask about what happened to my two agents driving my three informants to the safe house…I looked up from a phone call, and poof, they were just gone."

Opie…Tig would fucking kill him, but the boy had balls, and could think on his feet, glaring at Stahl and saying, "I think we're going to have to see a warrant." It was a good bit of formality to remind Stahl of, but it was a stupid statement to make…obviously Opie hadn't noticed the gun in Stahl's hands, a weapon other than the one issued to her by the ATF…whatever happened here tonight was "off the record." Fuck…Tig's eyes closed for a moment, trying to think of something to do, but he was feeling a little weak now from the blood trickling down his arm. Joss…how would she get out of the bathroom now? How'd she ever know he believed her about Opie? How'd she ever know that Tig loved her?

Stahl laughed, sounding so tired and exhausted with the shit she knew she was already in with her bosses. "Well, I'm afraid there isn't one," she admitted, but then sighed. "But, that's not the way we do things around here in the kingdom of SAMCRO, now is it? So, let's not get shitty about the details," she said with her usual arrogant nonchalant-ness. Then she stood up straight again, stalwartly, widened her stance and held her gun out at both of them perfectly still and much more level. "I don't' need a warrant. I just need you to tell me where my van is, and after that, I don't need either one of you!"

Chapter 44; Part 3

Joss's body was running along while her mind seemed to be outside of it, looking down and observing how her feet and legs had sprinted around to the back of the clubhouse, stopping at the first thankfully open window into one of the dorms she'd come to. She had no idea what it was she'd just seen through the cracked open clubhouse door…she had no idea who that redhaired bitch was, but she knew she'd shot Tig, and was promising to finish it. Like hell! She had her Glock, Tig had left it…but when she'd reached for it in the pocket of her jeans, ready to line up the perfect shot into that redhaired bitch's temple, Joss had made a horrifying discovery. Yes, Joss had a gun…Tig had locked her in the bathroom, had cut off all of her fingernails and had also removed anything like razor blades or even the towels and dental floss that she might have been able to hang herself with, but he'd left her gun…that hadn't made sense…until now…Tig may have not confiscated her gun, but he had taken her clip! How fucking stupid was Joss? How fucking useless was her IQ? She could make a bomb from drain clog remover and a door hinge, but she didn't think to check her weapon for its magazine? Jesus Christ!

And from that point on, she was once again on autopilot. The end sight of the Glock worked well to slice the window screen, Joss not knowing exactly what she was going to do, but she knew she just had to get into the clubhouse, and now her body was wriggling through the small window, her legs kicking as they tried to find the floor below her in the darkness of the room as she struggled not to fall and make any noises that may draw the attention of the gun toting, Tig wounding, redhaired bitch. No one shot her man and lived, no one! But what the fuck was she going to do, short of run in there shouting to Tig that she'd love him forever, in time to be blown away at his side?

Finally her foot hit something as she dangled from the window, but it was so dark in the door that not even her hovering mind's eye could see what the fuck it was, but it wasn't the floor. Christ…she couldn't have thought to maybe grab a flashlight and check for her ammunition? But then somehow she saw her feet standing on something chest like, flat on the top, and heavy. It seemed willing to take her weight, so Joss dropped down onto it, stepping off quickly incase it suddenly gave in. Whatever it was gave a slight rattle as she did, and it had seemed like the loudest sound ever made in the world. She froze, so sure that was it, everyone would know she was here, her heart pounding so hard and so fast in her ears she would have sworn the blood vessels in them had ruptured. But nothing happened, no one came to investigate. Thank you Jesus…but what did she do next?


	45. Monkey Wrench

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 45

Joss could hear the voices in the main clubhouse as she sat in the dark dorm, trying to think, but mostly sitting there on the floor, her legs folded beneath her and her arms crossed over her chest as she rocked back and forth, breathing hard...she had to do something…she had to save her man, but that was as far as she could make herself think. She could hear his voice and he was sounding like that wound was getting to him, like he didn't have much left. Oh God…he couldn't be bleeding out, he couldn't be injured that badly! She'd been standing there by Tig's bike when she'd heard the gun shot, and before she knew it, she was crouched behind the slightly open clubhouse door, peering in at what was happening…and there was Tig, with blood gushing from his shoulder, all over the blue shirt she'd always loved him in. Why? Opie was in there too, also held at gunpoint, but Joss couldn't even really see him though there was no way to not see him standing there next to Tig…Opie didn't exist for her any longer…this was all about Tig…she thought only of Tig…she loved Tig, fuck the rest of the world! It had been so hard not to run to him then, and part of Joss still wasn't entirely sure that she hadn't…her mind…her head…her thoughts…everything was still so fucked up. She was moving through this in sequences, like reading the chapters of a book, finishing one and moving to another, but never really understanding what would be next.

But the more weakness she heard in Tig's voice, the more she felt herself unraveling…he'd always been her strength she didn't know she had, and now she was losing him…sitting here rocking on the floor, trying to tuck into a ball…her mind racing with the echoes of everything Tig had ever said to her…"get your game face on," "stop doing this shit you're doing," "look at me," he was her strength after all…she had to try to plug into that somehow.

She wasn't sure how she was seeing it, but it didn't feel like she watched with her eyes, but she saw her head lift up and saw herself staring at the sturdy metal box she'd stood upon when sliding in through the dorm window. It was a toolbox, she recognized it now; and judging by the earlier rattle, it wasn't empty. But what good was it? She knew nothing about automotive repair, and even if she did, fucking up that black sedan that had to belong to rehaired bitch wasn't exactly the save she needed to pull off. But she must have really been fucked up in the head, because next she saw her hands clutching the toolbox as she stopped her rocking and moved closer to it, unlatching the two flip type of buckles on the front and opening it. It was dark, and the only way to really tell what was in there was to feel her way around, her hands gripping something heavy and long with a rounded cup type of piece on one end that turned…a socket wrench, "it had interchangeable pieces to fit a variety of nuts and bolts." Tig had made her memorize the wrenches one day, she'd never understood why, but at least right now, this box of useless tools gave her something to focus on, made her stop the incessant rocking, made some kind of logical thoughts bloom in her head, and there was some comfort in that alone.

She carefully set the socket wrench down and picked up something else, smaller than the socket wrench, one solid piece of metal, a Hex Key Wrench, "It's little and 'L' shaped so you can work in tight spaces that you can't always jam a bigger wrench into." Again, she set the tool down carefully, picking up the next one…but she needed both hands to do so…the Crescent Wrench…"it was adjustable"…but there was something else about it she was supposed to remember…and it was very important, but strange…what was it...Tig had been so afraid she'd forgotten the most important thing he'd told her…the Crescent Wrench…"It's really fucking heavy, so don't make me hit you with it."

Chapter 45; Part 2

For a moment Tig thought he'd seen something move, creeping behind the bar from out of the darkness of the hallway leading back towards the dormitories, but he couldn't trust his vision…for a flesh wound his shoulder was still bleeding pretty good, and it was either blood loss, or just the way his fucked up mind coped with things, but twice now everything had gone dark, but had gotten louder, even though Tig knew nothing had changed whatsoever. Stahl was still demanding information, Opie still feeding her a line of bullshit; he knew Stahl…sort of, he must have had some kind of way with her, because everything that came out of Opie's mouth kept the bitch going for a while as Tig stood there in silence, trying to think, trying to not let this be it…he had Joss to live for, at least, if she still wanted him. But he couldn't think of her heartbreak right now or his own…but what if what they'd had was shattered anyway, what if it would never go back together the way it was? No, this wasn't helping the immediate situation, there was gun on him, and the person holding it meant to use it and already had. But still, he'd thought he saw something crawl quickly and silently back behind the bar…something on all fours, wearing biker boots. Jax, Chibs, Happy…it had to be them, they had tracked Stahl to the clubhouse…but why hadn't anyone reacted to the sound of the bikes pulling up?

"Alright fellas," Stahl sighed; now figuring out that Opie had been playing her. "I know it wasn't the Mayans who took my van," she said. "Great story, and great plan, but what self respecting outlaw biker commits a crime while wearing his colors?"

Opie glanced over at Tig like tagging him in, that was obviously Opie's best stuff and he was out…they had all worn cuts and colors won from the Mayans over the last few years, but Stahl was right, no MC identified themselves when breaking the law. Opie had tried, Opie had been in this much more than Tig would have figured he'd be, expecting more that Opie would turn this whole thing on him, offer Tig up as the sacrifice in order to get out of this, and get the club out too. But no, the bastard had tried to cover for them both…god damn decent individual that he was…who, decent or not, was also trying to hurt Joss! Joss…how long would she cry over him, if she ever came out of the catatonia, and if she still cared…if she did come out, and she did care, then this might throw her right back into it again…she'd either spend the rest of her life in a padded room, or die there on the bathroom floor…never eating or drinking, and slowly wasting away. How would Tig find her if it did end that way? What were the chances that they'd end up in the same eternity?

"Tigger, you've been awfully quiet this evening," Stahl said, turning to him and sounding as though she was so very concerned about him, which of course she wasn't, and it made Tig grind his teeth with his want to rush her and rip her head off, but he didn't…but maybe he should have? He was dead anyway. "Is there anything in your compadre's story that you can maybe clear up for me?" She asked, and then…there was a swoosh, something gleaming and silver flying downwards against Stahl's head with a bang-crunch, a loud crisp sound like a million stalks of celery being snapped. Blood, it ran down over one of Stahl's eyes, her expression sank into idiocy, but she was turning, trying to look at what had struck her, but before she could, she dropped her gun and fell to the floor in a floundering heap. What the fuck?

Stahl's body falling was like a curtain going up, revealing his Joss, who had jumped up on the bar now, a Crescent Wrench in her hands, she didn't look at Tig, didn't look at Opie, didn't look at anything but Stahl, who still wiggled and jiggled there on the floor in uncontrollable spasms, but Tig could see there was a look on Joss's face that he by now knew very well. She jumped down off of the bar, standing over Stahl, looking down at her with those glowing green eyes, exhaled lowly, and then came forth the awful, angry screeching and wailing, the babbling of incomprehensible words at the highest human pitch there was spewing from Joss's mouth as she raised the Crescent Wrench again with both hands, bringing it down on Stahl's head once more, pausing in her screeches and wails at yet another crunch of bone, breathing in through her mouth, between clenched teeth, one of Stahl's eyes now depressed into her botched up head, but Joss wasn't done. She screeched again, held the wrench all the way over her frizzy black hair and slammed it down again, Stahl's blood splattering all over her, but that only seemed to make her angrier, and now there was no stopping her, Joss working like a machine, swinging that wrench into Stahl's head and face again and again, while both Tig and Opie looked on in complete, but thankful, shock.

And here came the cavalry, not just Jax, Chibs and Happy, but the entire club was coming home to roost, probably because there was no sign of Stahl anywhere on the road, and Tig and Opie had never gotten the chance to call Clay and let him know the clubhouse was secure…which it was…now, thanks to Joss. Tig's first thought was to get her to stop, to try to settler her down before any of his brothers hit the door…but he also knew there was no stopping her…she'd already done some sizeable damage to his forearm with only her teeth, and now he had a gunshot wound in the same shoulder, and Joss had a Crescent Wrench…there'd be no getting control of her. But fuck…how was he ever going to explain this to everyone when they saw it? They all thought she was such a sweet girl…everyone always said to him, "that's a nice girl," as soon as Joss would leave Tig with a smile and a kiss, then walk off to do whatever it was he'd said she could go do. But this…spider monkey with a club…it was liable to change some minds…it was too late to do anything about it now…Tig couldn't stop her, and even Opie who was all about getting in Stahl's face with a bullshit story, was just standing there petrified and looking on…Clay, Jax and all the rest of everyone announcing themselves at the clubhouse door, guns drawn, in response to all the screeching and the bashing sounds.

"Uh," Opie stammered, unable to take his eyes off the mess at the bar…both Joss and Stahl…whose head now resembled a taco shell, with picante sauce everywhere. "Come in…slowly."

Chapter 44; Part 3

"Baby," there was a break in Joss's actions; she stood over Stahl who was…nothing but a pulp-headed bean pole with no flower at the end now. This was the only chance Tig had to get to Joss, to try to calm her down, to tell her it was okay, that there was no more danger, that she'd taken care of it, and there was no way in hell that Stahl was going to be holding a gun on anyone here…ever again. Tig took a step towards her, the rest of the club standing behind him, some of them with looks on their faces like they didn't think this was a good idea, but they didn't know Joss, they'd never seen her like this before, but Tig had…and he knew his opening would come when her little body got tired, and she'd have to stop to at least take a breath. And that she had…covered in blood and bone fragments and bits of skin and probably Stahl's brain too…Christ, that was likely never coming out of the carpet, but Tig pushed the thought aside, still approaching Joss, who finally looked at him like she didn't understand his being here, or where he could have come from. Yeah, he could have looked at her the same way, but how she'd escaped from the bathroom fortress and gotten in here with a Crescent Wrench was a thought that would have to wait. She wasn't catatonic anymore, but the girl still wasn't right. "Joss, it's okay," he told her about three feet away from her now and his voice as soft and soothing as Tig could make it. "Come here," he told her, beckoning over to himself, and he saw Joss shake her head a little, like someone banging on an old TV set with the picture doing that spazzed out horizontal hold thing televisions used to sometimes do. "It's okay. You know I won't let anyone hurt you."

Joss drew another ragged breath, looking at Tig, her green eyes on his, the glow beginning to fade, her face streaked with blood. She dropped the wrench as something from within began to rush through her, a sudden injection of reality that slammed her back to here and now. And then there were tears, so many so quickly that most of the blood and other debris was washed from her face before she was even in Tig's arms. He held her so tightly, his eyes closed as he picked her up off the ground and just crushed her to him, ignoring the searing pain in his shoulder and his forearm, and the fact that the mess all over Joss was getting all over him. It didn't matter, Joss was back, and had run to his arms, ran to him for protection from what she felt!

She shook and cried and panted like a dog, but drew another breath, focused the energy she had and tried to look up at him. "I love y—" she began to say as Tig turned his head to press a kiss beside her weeping eye, but then suddenly she was quiet…and stiff…frozen in time….again.

"No!" Tig bellowed, but he knew it wouldn't do any good…she was gone, trapped inside her shattered self one more time. "Joss," still he called to her, turning around and leaning her up against the wall, grabbing her face with both his hands and trying to tip her chin up to him, but the Counterhold only made Joss pull away from his hands and look downwards. "Jocelyn!" Tig yelled, and now his brothers were crowding around, asking a million questions,"is she okay?" "what happened?" "what the fuck is all of this?" But Tig ignored them, focused on Joss, looking at her eyes, and noticing that they not only watched him, but also moved still…she wasn't all the way gone! "Joss, c'mon, baby, look at me," he urged her, leaning closer to her, his nose practically touching hers, he had to get through to her, he just had to! Two catatonic states in less than twenty-four hours didn't bode well for her. "C'mon Joss," Tig shouted at her now, taking her by the shoulders and giving her a shake. "Don't go back there, baby, stay with me! Please!"

The tension in Joss's muscles began to slowly give and she slid down the wall into a sitting position, Tig dropping down with her, trying to hold her up from becoming a lifeless puddle on the floor. "Joss," he was saying again, more desperate this time. "I know you're in there, baby," he said, shaking his head and shaking her again. "Come on out, come back to me, angel, I need you!"

"Yeah, come on, Joss!" Tig suddenly noticed that someone else had crouched down beside him, also leaning towards Joss. Opie! What the fuck? He was the last person Tig wanted anywhere near his Joss right now, but at this moment, Tig's hands were also mentally tied. He couldn't tell Opie to fuck off, and pull Joss back into this world at the same time. It was one or the other, and Joss won…she'd always win. Opie looked at her, right in her feverish green eyes. "We all need you, Joss. Fight your way outta there!"

Joss's eyes drifted to Opie for a moment, then back to Tig, but it was still the only part of her that moved, "C'mon, baby," Tig begged now, shaking her again. "Don't leave me," he told her, hoping the tears in his eyes weren't that evident, "look at me, I'm right here, come to me."

All of a sudden it was rather crowded, and there were a number voices surrounding her and Tig, the entire club, apparently not thinking less of Joss at all, and forgetting Stahl and her wrench mashed head, and instead gathering around, watching Joss, trying to get her attention, to make her eyes focus on snapping fingers or clapping hands, her name being called again and again by everyone, all of them telling her to "come back," and "fight," and "don't give up."

It was the last thing Tig had expected, and even though Joss still hovered between here and now and there and then, he immediately felt more centered and in control of things. He had the support of his club, and so did his old lady. "C'mon, Joss," he told her, looking into her eyes again and nodding his head. "You can do this; you know how this property thing works, baby! I tell you to do something; you do it! So you get the fuck back here, now!"

With what seemed like a strike of lightning, Joss leaped back into herself, eyes opening wide, sucking in a long, deep, hoarse breath of air and sitting away from the wall chest first, slamming herself back against it as she gasped, shaking herself and making full on and controlled eye contact with Tig, turning her head to look up at the rest of his brothers, who immediately recognized that she was in control of herself again and let loose with a chorus of grunting cheers. Joss's mouth opened and she tried to speak, but not all her circuits were quite connected yet, she had no ability to make her voice work, and she looked at Tig apologetically and so confused, trying again to say something, anything, but still nothing would come out. She was mute, but she was also looking around at everyone, and comprehending where she was and who they were!

"It's okay," Tig was saying to her softly, able to take both of her bloody, grimy hands now and hold them without the Counterhold pulling them back from his grasp. She wasn't one hundred percent yet, but she was Joss again! Tig sighed and then immediately began to laugh, never having felt quite what he felt now. Joss was back, he'd called her and she'd come, and before it all went down, she'd said she loved him. Fuck! Since he'd met that damn girl he'd been running from those words, and now, they were an audible paradise that had pulled him back from his own edge. The devil be damned, but she was still his, and he was going to keep her forever, and give her whatever the fuck he might even suspect she wanted…he'd make sure her manicure got fixed, every finger, every letter of his name, he'd let the chipmunks steal all his screws off of the workbench if it made her laugh, he would find her that crazy thoroughbred, one that could jump, he would get her another gun with the highest quality scope they made…but it all just didn't seem like it was enough. What could he do to show her how much she meant to him? That he loved her and that he would forever? There was still some shit to be worked out, but he and Joss were going to be fine. He knew that. "You just rest, get your shit together a little more, we'll talk later."

Joss managed to nod, then raised a shaky hand as her eyes settled on the blood drying all over his arm, her eyes following the paths of the scratches on his cheek and his neck…tears appearing in her eyes, knowing they could have only come from one place, and the thought of it, or perhaps the memory, gave her some kind of excess energy now, and she was rocking back and forth, her head beginning to bang into the paneling behind it so hard that Tig feared she might injure herself by busting a hole in the wall. He had to settle this; she had enough of ways back still, and if this were the manifestation of some confused attempt at self punishment that Joss felt she was due, Tig wouldn't allow it, she didn't deserve it. "Joss, I'm okay," he promised her, quickly reaching out to cup his hand around the back of her head and cushion it as it hit the paneling, but his hand collided with something, Opie's hand; reaching over to look out for Joss the same way.


	46. The Brotherhood of Shame

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 46

"Tig," Clay moved forward, his hand on Tig's good shoulder as Tig crouched there, his hand on the back of Joss's head, and his blue eyes glaring at Opie. "You need a hospital."

"No," Tig answered, glancing at Joss who was trying to get control of herself, but she couldn't yet, kept rocking, but stiffened her neck now in an effort to keep her own head from hitting the wall. He gave her a small, understanding nod, then his eyes went angrily right back to Opie. "I'm good."

"Go, man." Opie insisted, glancing at Tig's blood soaked shirt sleeve. "You've been bleeding for quite awhile, I don't know why you're still conscious."

Tig's stare became more intense, anger bristling to the bursting point. Opie should have backed the fuck off awhile ago; couldn't he see that Tig had this? Tig could take care of Joss, and he was the only one here whose right it was to do so to begin with. Shit, Clay loved the girl like a daughter, but even he respected what was Tig's in the sense of property and responsibility. Opie…Tig would fucking kill Opie. "And after I leave, then what?" There was nothing special about the words, nothing threatening, but Tig's tone couldn't have been anymore malicious, or his eyes any colder. Opie's stitches had been out for a few days now, but he looked like he was in need of new ones…in a big "Y" pattern…given on an autopsy table. "What are you going to try with her then?"

Opie furrowed his brow and drew back a bit as if trying to avoid being hit. He looked at Joss then looked back at Tig with a stare heavier than a Crescent Wrench and darker than Joss's raven hair. "I never did anything to her."

Tig shook his head, so angry he couldn't get it to show properly on his face, and there was the most misplaced sadness coming up inside from out of nowhere too. He looked at Joss, who was watching him concernedly, trying to speak again, but her mind and body still not meshed together quite enough to allow her to. Tig sighed as he looked at her, pushing her hard against the wall and holding her rocking form still a moment, and trying to reach up to gently stroke his hand over her long, frazzled hair, but between the damage from Joss's teeth and the bullet, that arm was now too fatigued and hurt far too much to raise that high. He groaned with the ache of it all, the pain beginning to find him now that the adrenaline was wearing off. He let go of Joss, who immediately began to rock again, trying to stop, but not able to. His poor, dark, sweet angel…she hadn't deserved anything that had happened to her…some of it was also on Tig, for his snap-to reaction and irrepressible temper, but he never would have raged at Joss if it hadn't have been for doctor bitch, who was only reporting on what she'd seen…Tig looked back at Opie, shaking his head. "The fuck you didn't, man." Fuck, why'd he sound like Opie had just run over his dog when what he truly felt inside was how much Tig wanted to slam Opie's head into the wall…and then finish him with the Crescent Wrench?

Opie was quiet for a few seconds, the entire clubhouse was quiet, everyone watching this unfold, hearing this happen, and trying to figure it out themselves, but Tig, as well as Opie from the looks of things, took no notice of their audience. Joss must have felt something though, but she couldn't speak, or even get control of her movements, trapped there against the wall, looking like she wanted to touch Tig, to take his hand, but the only thing she could do to express herself was to let herself shake violently all over, rocking back into the wall even harder now, her head bouncing off the paneling so fiercely that Tig's good arm flew up to cup the back of her head with his hand once more, but it did little to cushion the blows, until Opie's hand appeared between the two of them and gently pressed to Joss's forehead, both he and Tig keeping her still. Both men stared at one another for a few more seconds, brothers in the same cause, but divided by so many others.

Opie continued to hold Joss still with Tig, but looked at him with a morose seriousness. "She tell you?" He bit out. "So you roughed her up and now that's my fault?"

"No," The fury that Tig had expected to hear in his voice before was gradually building back into it now, his answer seeming to swipe at Opie's head like a handful of Joss's claws. "She was too scared about what I might think to tell me. I had to find out from," he paused a moment and looked over his shoulder at Jax, whom, though he'd probably never understand why or how, was just as much in the wrong here as was Opie, because Jax didn't have a clue about how to control his old lady. "Tara."

There were a few hissed intakes of breaths and some muttered words, around them all, but no one jumped in, and Opie and Tig continued on, undaunted. "Look," Opie said, shaking his head as he cast another sorry glance at Joss, continuing to help hold her still. "I'm sorry, bro, but it's like I said, I never did anything to her. And she never got out of line with me either, so whatever you did to her—"

"You fucking cocksucker!" Tig exploded, ripping his hand away from Joss in his frenzy, Opie holding her by himself now as Tig pointed frantically to the scratches on his cheek and his neck. "Does this look like I went after her?" He yelled in Opie's face, next yanking the blood soaked shirt sleeve up, and displaying the deep bite wounds on his forearm. "Does this look like I put a hand on her?" He yelled again. "You gave me a reason to accuse her of fucking around with you, and we both know she wasn't! But me even saying that she was, even thinking that she was, broke her!" Tig's throat was beginning to burn with how loudly he was shouting and how deep and gruff his voice was. "You know what my little girl's like, I know you've been watching her, she's beautiful, inside and out, so sweet and so caring and she's gentle," Tig described, mourning all the things that had wrapped his brothers around Joss's little finger, hoping that he could maybe convince his everyone standing around listening that Joss's…outburst was something…acute, brought on by Opie's deviousness. But still Tig couldn't help but wonder if the club would ever see Joss the same way again…now that they'd seen the "spider monkey." Tig felt himself get even more furious with Opie, restraining himself from reaching out to strangle him where he crouched beside Joss. "Do you see this?" He asked of Opie, pointing to the scratches and the bite mark again. "Do you see that?" He asked, pointing over his shoulder at the mutilated body of Agent Stahl. "Do you see her?" He furthered, pointing to Joss, who was still a mute, thrashing mess without the assistance of someone to keep her from putting her head through the paneling. "This shit is all on you!"

Opie closed his eyes, grit his teeth, and kind of shook his head like he didn't want to see any of the things Tig had pointed out to him, but his eyes did open again, and he looked at Joss, right in the eyes one more time and shook his head at her, then swallowed hard. "This wasn't my intention," he said to her, his voice cracking half way through. He looked back at Tig, half trying not let the tears in his eyes show as he sneered, his voice a low, emphatic roar. "I wanted you to suffer, I wanted you to 'break,' not her!"

Tig's heart thundered inside his chest like the whirling blades of a chopper, and he was shaking with the storm seething inside him, but surprised once again at how he didn't lunge for for Opie's throat, hearing himself laughing morbidly instead. "Shit boy," Tig was saying, shaking his own head now. "I'm a smashed box of bone china," he said. "You can't 'break' me anymore than I'm already broke!" Tig laughed again, slowly looking over at his sweet Joss, Opie's hand still gingerly pressed to her brow as she tried to react, tried to understand…she could hear them. Tig's laughter died, and he touched her cheek with the back of his hand on his good arm. His poor, perfect, dark angel…she'd always be perfect in Tig's eyes, even if she was never the same as she was before after this. "All you did was wreck the glue holding me together."

A tear finally broke free of Opie's eye, but a sudden streak of anger followed after it. He ripped his hand from Joss's forehead and it quickly became a fist as he glowered at Tig. "I didn't mean for that to happen!" He growled as loudly as he could. "How was I supposed to know she wouldn't tell you?" He roared.

Tig shuddered with his rage. "How was I supposed to know that Donna'd be driving your truck?" He roared back, the words seeming to lash Opie across his back, made him flinch and nearly fall backwards, Tig braced for some kind of punch to be thrown next, but nothing came…except silence.

It was a few more seconds before Opie looked at Tig and Tig looked at Opie, but when they did, and one stare of anguished disgrace met another stare of anguished disgrace, it was clear that some tacit understanding had suddenly been reached between them, each now having worn the other's shoes, and fighting the same demon. Tig had been deliberate in how he was chasing Opie into this dark corner, boxing him in right where he wanted him in the gloom and disparity of this horrid oubliette, enjoying the knowledge that Opie was now tortured there in that bleakness…but stunned to suddenly realize that another soul also lingered there, impaled on the foul spikes and screaming for mercy…Tig himself was already down there in the filth of guilt and negligence, struggling to claw his own way out. Donna's blood would be on Tig's hands forever, but never as he'd worked to throw Opie down into this little dungeon did he consider he and Opie would end up as cell mates. But they were; they were the same, not outwardly, but this mistake, this destruction of innocents that was never intended, that scorched its brand onto the soul, blackening it forever, was something they shared. Inside, he and Opie were the same thing. There was no more yelling, no more accusations, just the birth of a new brotherhood, that no one wished to belong to.

Opie finally turned his head away from Tig's similar stare and he looked at Joss, whose erratic movement was beginning to subside, Tig knowing exactly what Opie was about to say, and how it felt to say it. "I'm sorry," he was barely able to articulate to her, trying and failing to hold back tears, taking Joss's bloody hands in both of his. "I'm so sorry!"

Chapter 46; Part 2

Jax flipped his phone closed and sighed, looking at Clay. "Tara's on until the sun comes up; she can't get here until then."

"Figures," Clay groaned, standing over where Tig and Opie still crouched down by Joss, who was perfectly still now, not moving at all because she was too exhausted, not able to speak yet either, leaning back against the wall on the verge of sleep. Good, she needed to rest, her mind needed to just shut off for a little while so it could heal up too. Tig envied her, and likely so did Opie; a lot of emotion had crossed wires around here tonight, and no one felt particularly energetic. "C'mon Tig, you can't wait that long, you gotta get that shoulder looked at."

"No," Tig immediately replied, looking away from Joss for a moment and up at Clay. "No way, man, I'm not leaving Joss, and I can't take her with me to Saint Thomas…she'll end up on the fucking fifth floor mental ward!" Fucking doctor bitch! Had Joss been a doctor, on shift at a hospital, and Tig had called her and asked her to come to the clubhouse to help one of his brothers, Joss would have come, her "shift" be damned! And Tig couldn't go to the hospital for so many reasons. First, it would mean he'd have to be treated by doctor bitch herself, and he wasn't sure he could be in the same room with her right now without tying both her tits in a knot, and secondly, if he left for the hospital, that did leave Joss unattended. All available hands were cleaning Stahl up off the floor, hauling her back out to her black sedan, which Happy and Sack were busting up in the appropriate places to correspond with Stahl's…watermelon meets pavement, type of head injuries; the entire crew getting ready to dump the whole package over an embankment nearest the site of the ICE raid…poor June Stahl…died in a tragic accident while in performance of her duties. If Tig left to get medical treatment, Joss was alone, and he couldn't have that, too paranoid and afraid she may slip back into catatonia again.

Clay sighed, looking on at Joss and sighed again, only this time it as more in relief, so glad to see her in a more peaceful, quiet state. He looked back at his SAA. "Tig, don't make me order you to get that shoulder taken care of, cuz I'm on the edge of doin' just that."

Tig exhaled sharply and shook his head, gritting his teeth, but knowing there wasn't much he could do about it if Clay did order him to Saint Thomas. He was okay, at least, he was as okay as he could be for having a decent human bite wound and a gunshot to the same arm…but if Joss wasn't catatonic, and wasn't rocking uncontrollably against the wall, Tig was fucking great! "Clay, I'm beggin' you, man," he said, then looked at Joss, fighting a sudden urge to lay his head in her lap and just curl up to her. "Cut me some fucking slack on this one, please? Someone needs to stay with her, I can't leave her."

Opie looked up, first at Clay then at Tig. "I'll stay with her."

Tig's head jerked towards him suddenly and he scowled. Yeah, they may have understood each other a little better now, but still…"you're more out of you shithole mind than I am!"

"No," Opie shook his head. "C'mon man, you said it yourself, she's like this because of me," He sighed, glanced at Joss with sorry eyes then looked back at Tig. "I just wanna try to make it up to her, at least a little."

But Tig sat there still scowling, more than apprehensive. Leave his recovering Joss with Opie, who had wrecked her worse than what she'd wrecked Stahl? Right! "No," he answered flatly. "The shoulder's not that big a deal, I've had worse and waited longer to get it fixed up."

A small audience had gathered, Chibs standing beside Jax with a sledge hammer in his hands that he was about to take outside to the sedan when the conversation had distracted him. "Tig," he said. "I'll watch yer girl with him, seen this shite before in the SAS vets, soomethin' happens, we'll call yeh ferst thing." He said, looking over at Opie, a moment. "Yeh've got yer reasons naught ta troost Opie, we nuu that, but yeh've nuu reason naught ta troost meh."

Tig looked at Chibs, wishing he could disagree with that, but he couldn't, and Clay knew it too. Chibs did have army medic experience, Tig wouldn't be leaving Joss in the care of just anyone, like Opie, but fuck…the other reason that Tig hadn't wanted to leave Joss was…just that, he didn't want to leave Joss. He wanted to be close to her, he wanted to have her head nestled against his chest, that she loved to kiss and touch so much, and know that she was shielded in his arms from everything hurtful in the world. She'd get better that way, he knew she would. But there'd be no arguing Clay down now; he was going to the hospital. Tig sighed heavily in defeat, stealing a quick glance at Opie. Maybe he did deserve some small chance to make his apology to Joss? Tig would have given almost anything to have such a chance like that with Donna. "Let me get her off the floor and over onto the couch first." He got to his feet then bent down to Joss, remembering at that point that he was effectively "the one armed man" now, but Clay soon took over.

"I'll get her," Clay said, and stooped over, slipping his arms carefully beneath Joss's bent knees and behind her shoulders, lifting her up easily, and Joss looked so little in Clay's arms…yeah, she should have had a dad like him. She'd hardly stirred as Clay had lifted her, her head falling against Clay's shoulder, and she drew a quiet deep breath, snuggling against him, somehow knowing she was with friends, that she was safe. Tig couldn't help but acknowledge that himself and finally felt like he could leave her, for just a little while. Clay turned with her in his arms, carrying her over to couch where he gently laid her down, "She'll be okay, Tig. Go make sure you are."

Chibs was nodding. "There's naught a one of oos here whoo doesn'a owe the girl for gettin' Stahl ooff our arse," he reminded Tig. "We'll luke after her like a queen."

Chapter 46; Part 3

Joss smelled bleach. Shit…she'd meant to buy laundry detergent at the store this afternoon! Tig didn't like the stuff she'd bought last time, not the way it cleaned, but he said he was tired of the way it smelled…whatever, Tig was Tig and always would be, there wasn't any making him happy, unless of course, there was…and if it meant buying more laundry detergent even though there was still more than a half a bottle of the other stuff left, Joss would do it. Except that she hadn't…oh fuck…she was going to have to go back to the store now before he came home from work, how had she forgotten to get the detergent? Wait, she never got to the store today…she'd gone riding with Lauren, and then Tig had wanted her home…and then there was the party…and then there was…oh fuck…Joss smelled bleach!

"God damn," her eyes were still closed as she hovered just under the surface of sleep, trying to sort things out before she was awake and would be drawing attention, but she could clearly hear everything around her, and that included Half-Sack's whining and moaning over by the bar. "It's all over the ceiling too! What the fuck?"

"Cast off marks," replied Happy, not nearly as impressed or surprised as the prospect. "You don't swing something like a Crescent Wrench into someone's head the way Joss did without getting them on the ceiling, or whatever wall is behind you," explained a voice of experience.

"Shit! I gotta bleach the ceiling next?" Sack groaned, sounding like he was on the floor by the bar, and there were bristling sounds of a scrub brush coming from his direction as well. Oh no…Joss felt terrible…she'd really made a mess, and now Sack was suffering for it, having to clean that redhaired bitch's remains off of the floor…where had she come from? She seemed to know both Tig and Opie, and also knew a lot about the club…she was probably some FBI bitch, but what was her tie to SAMCRO? Joss was curious about that, but she couldn't find any remorse in having bludgeoned her death…well, almost none, it might have been nice if she didn't exactly go…whatever that madness was…it really did turn her into something she didn't like to associate with herself, but it was in there nonetheless. But other than that, Joss didn't care about killing redhaired bitch…whoever she was…someone's wife? Someone's daughter? Someone's mother? Someone's sister? Fuck the ones redhaired bitch left behind…they should have all taught redhaired bitch better than to shoot Joss's man! But shit…there probably was an awfully big mess to be looked after now.

Happy laughed. "No, you ninny," he sniped at Sack. "We'll just replace the ceiling tiles, there's a few more in the closet of one of the dormitories, we had some left when we finished this place. We'll burn the bloody ones."

Bleach and burning…sulfuric acid…somehow, that mad beast that resided within her had brought her to those things again. Only this time, it wasn't her and Tig cleaning things up and hiding the evidence. Tig…she wished she could have gone with him to the hospital, but he was right, Saint Thomas's staff would have put her in a straight jacket. But she was worried about Tig's shoulder, she was horrified by the scratches on his cheek and neck, and she was regretfully terrified by that bite mark on his arm. Jesus Christ…she'd realized not too long ago that one day she was going to hurt him, and that day had come. He still loved her; that was evident, Joss could feel it coming off of him the moment she was in his arms, and then out again, turned to stone, imprisoned within herself until Tig had given her the strength to bust down those walls. He still loved her, and she still loved him, but she couldn't go on knowing that the next time that beast took her over, Tig could be what it set itself upon. Clay had told her help was out there and then even said he'd make sure she got it if she wanted it. Maybe that was a good idea? Gemma didn't go nuts and kill people, and some day, Joss was going to be what Gemma was now…this had to stop! She never wanted to hurt Tig again, never.

Hmm…yeah, it was really too bad she couldn't go to the hospital with him. He wasn't dying, thank God, Joss knew that, but he was with Tara…wow…that must have been fun to watch…Tara didn't know Tig didn't like to be touched…or that he really wasn't that crazy about her either. Hmm…Tara…how had Tig found out about Opie in the first place?

And Opie…wow…there were some changes there, or some, realizations at least, between Tig and him. It was like they were now two escaped convicts that hated each other, but were handcuffed together and had no choice but to bust out together and were gradually learning that to help themselves, they'd have to help the other in order to flea some common enemy that would otherwise forever keep them imprisoned. Joss didn't understand all of what had gone down between them in the past, and unless one of them ever volunteered the information to her, she knew she likely never would, but what she did know was that Opie was sitting there next to her, looking out for her like he'd told her he would, and staying with her like he'd promised Tig he'd do. Hmm…so, was it okay to trust him yet? She wanted to, Joss had believed he was sorry, and that he hadn't meant to hurt her and that he'd never imagined he would be…he'd gone after her man though, she'd never forgive him for that, but at least she wasn't planning to shoot him, or attack him with a wrench, anymore. He seemed to have his reasons for going after Tig…and he likely did…Tig being…well, Tig.

"Joss?" She heard Opie's voice and he leaned down over her. Oh hell, no wonder she knew that Opie was sitting there beside the couch with her, she'd opened her damn eyes. No, another few minutes, and then she'd be ready to face everyone…but too late. "Joss! Hey!" He smiled at her, he looked so excited and so relieved, like she was something he'd dearly miss if she never woke up again. Opie looked away from her at someone across the clubhouse, but his smile didn't die. "Chibs! She's awake, man!"

Chapter 46; Part 4

Doctor bitch was trying to be all clinical, like she didn't know her patient, but Tig wasn't letting her hide within that. She'd been the one to press play on this whole shit storm, and Tig wanted to make sure she got to know every detail from start to finish. Jesus fucking Christ, what kind of bitch, a grown-ass woman, came tattle-tailing on her best friend about shit she didn't even know to be true? And all because she was having a hard time fitting in, which was her own stupid fucking fault to begin with! Shit, what did Joss see that was so redeemable about doctor bitch? The worthless cunt…

"Ow!" Tig ground out and pulled away, the fat plastic syringe with no needle on the end that doctor bitch had shoved into the hole in his deltoid slipping out violently, falling through doctor bitch's gloved fingers and crashing to the floor. "What the hell are you doing?" He yelled; looking eye to eye with her where he sat on the exam table, doctor bitch's hand just below his shoulder blade as she'd tried to…whatever. "And get your damn hand off of me! I fucking hate that!"

"I'm sorry," doctor bitch did sound a little bit exasperated, but mostly, she was peeing her pants to be in an exam room with Tig, and Bobby as her only protection, and now Tig was yelling at her and being uncooperative. "The bullet went through, but I still have to flush the wound with saline."

Tig made a face, showing his teeth, but not in a smile. "No you don't!" He informed her, cocking his head superiorly. "Bullets are sterile! The whole fucking world knows that; the whole fucking world except for you, anyway!"

"Tig," Bobby grunted and stood against the wall shaking his head, crossing his arms over his big belly. "Jax's old lady, man." He reminded, which was annoying, but yeah…unfortunately, Tig was out of line to be talking to doctor bitch like that…fucking protocols!

Tig huffed, but he didn't look at doctor bitch. "Sorry." He said; then looked at her. "Look, it's been a bad fucking twenty-four hours since I talked to you last," Tig paused a moment and watched doctor bitch's face turn white…really white…like, needed a transfusion white…it was cool! "So just do something for the scratches and the bite wound, and then give me some antibiotics or whatever for the holes in my shoulder, and I'm outta here!" He said, and that really was what he wanted, particularly about the something for the scratches and the bite wound. It wasn't that they were that painful, but more that he knew what it did to Joss when she looked at them. If doctor bitch really was worth anything, why couldn't she do something, or find something, that would just make the scratches and the bite mark go away? "Can you do that, huh? Just stop…fucking touching me, and get me outta here!" He grumbled through clenched teeth, but couldn't resist adding. "If I need real help with the shoulder, Joss can fix it, she can figure out anything; you're not needed." There! That shoulda flushed doctor bitch's saline!

Tig sat back and got ready to watch everything doctor bitch defined herself as being melting off her face in tears, but before it could happen, his cell rang in the pocket of his cut that sat beside him, along with the tattered and bloody blue shirt that Joss always liked him in. "Shit," Tig groaned as he reached for his cut, immediately worried for Joss. He looked at Bobby as he found his phone. "We may have to roll, bro." Bobby nodded, also looking concerned, Tig flipping his phone open and putting it to his ear, his body tense and his mind quaking within his head. "Ope? What is it? She okay?"

"Yeah," Opie answered, but it was difficult for Tig to trust that it was. He'd spent so long now being suspicious of Opie and avoiding him; it was going to take awhile before he was able to relax into being on this terrible, miserable even ground with him, but that's exactly where they were, on even ground, and bound together even more tightly than they had been under their reaper cuts. "Hold on a sec," Opie said to him. "I got someone here who really wants to talk to you."

What the fuck? The confusion and panic must have shown on Tig's face, because Bobby had stepped away from the wall and was leaning over Tig's phone himself now, trying to hear what was going on, until a new voice was heard on the other end of the line, a voice that had been silent when Tig had left. "Tig?"

Tig closed his eyes, not able to beat down the serene smile that overtook him. "Joss!" He answered, his joyous laughter surprising everyone in the room.


	47. Obedience School

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 47

Joss had never really noticed just how much bigger Tig's hands were than her own, but then, they'd never laid together like this, in bed, her head on his chest and the palm of her hand pressed to the palm of his as they talked about the garage schedule on Monday, about how she used honey instead of sugar in most everything she ate, about how Tig needed some new CD's; Journey and Van Halen were driving her crazy. The topics were really nothing, far from important, but still they served a purpose, managing to salve any awkwardness that may have lingered between them. They'd both been too exhausted to do more than take a shower and crawl into bed, despite that it was nearly sunrise, the bedroom once again bathed in the awkward gray light of a night transitioning into day, but caught in the middle, not truly one or the other. It was good to be home again, it was good to be them again.

Tig was bandaged all over it seemed, his shoulder packed with gauze in the front and the back and wrapped with an ace bandage, his forearm also secured with gauze and sterile cotton batting, two butterfly bandages on the scratches on his cheek rounding everything out. Joss had worried about his bandages getting wet in the shower, wet bandages attracted infection, but somehow, Tig had managed to keep them all mostly dry, and they were still soundly in place, though he said nothing about his injuries since he'd returned from the hospital, going as far now as to turn his head away from Joss so that she couldn't see the claw marks on his neck and face. She couldn't see any of injuries really, clasped to his chest the way he had her, his good arm around her, her hand resting above his near his hip. They were both tired, but neither slept, perhaps driven by this need to feel themselves each close to the other's body and memorize every detail about how it felt; Joss staring at her cut down black fingernails against the roughness of a mechanic's hands, Tig's long, thick fingers and powerful grip now closing around the softness of her skin that he'd allowed to lay upon his own. He'd never held her like this, she'd had to dream about it, had to imagine it, but that was the closest Joss had ever believed she'd be able to have to this type of corporeal nurturing from him, but the timing was perfect, it was just what she needed. He'd do anything to protect her, particularly from herself.

Joss sighed, having been through so much now she didn't even know where to begin thinking about it all. She breathed in her man's scent, able to quickly differentiate through the aroma of soap and antiseptics that were not truly him and let the wind-swept potion of metal and musk fill her lungs as she lay even more against his chest. His chest was broad, she'd never had much of an opportunity to put her arms around him, so she'd never been able to feel how broad Tig's chest was, but it was, no wonder he'd always felt so solid any time she was close to him. She'd always known he was strong, and she could feel that the myriads of dark hairs over his chest obscured any conditioning or muscle definition he may have had, but it was there, she could feel it now; he didn't work out, never trained with weights that she knew of, what he had was how he was made, and while he wasn't Superman by any stretch of imagination, there was still plenty of power for her lay her head upon and nuzzle her cheek against.

He'd always hid this from her in a way, refusing to be in her arms where she'd be able to feel it in all its magnificence, no doubt because if Joss had known it was there, she'd have been all over him with compliments about his body, about his muscles, and compliments were always such a tricky thing with Tig, both receiving them and giving them. However, that wasn't the entirety of why he'd never let her hold him; Joss wasn't sure exactly what was, but she knew it was more than that. But Tig shared this secret about his body with her now, whether he realized it or not. She was getting to know him all over again, being granted the rare chance to rediscover what she knew about him, as long as she was silent about what she discovered.

This was happier than Joss thought she'd be ever again, the dark, curling hairs on Tig's chest tickling her nose and lips as she let the rhythm of Tig's heart become the only thing she heard. She was so afraid of what they'd be when they got home, without the club around them, alone. This had a better than average chance of feeling so strange and so unnatural to be together in any intimate sort of setting, given what had blown up between them. And Joss couldn't help but wonder at just what all of Tig's brothers had seen of her attack on that rehaired bitch, and what they'd thought…add to it the recent spells she'd begun having, and then the incessant rocking and not being able to speak. Oh God…what if she'd disfigured Tig's place within the club? His old lady was a crazy bitch, she was a liability to SAMCRO, and therefore, so was Tig…what if Clay was going to withdraw his endorsement of Tig's presidency now that it looked like Joss could no more keep her man "good" as she could keep herself that way? What had she done?

"You okay, little girl?" Tig asked, but there was no anxious worry in his voice, he was just being attentive, she had gone suddenly quiet.

Why wasn't this awkward for them? But then, maybe it was; they didn't do this, Tig wasn't a good candidate for any kind of snuggling, and no one whom Joss had ever fucked before felt anything for her that would prompt them to hold her like Tig was doing now, his good arm around her, gently pressing her head against his strong, broad chest as he smoothed her damp hair. Jesus…if she'd wrecked anything for her man…she was dead…but not by Tig's hand.

"Yeah," Joss answered, buffing down the panic that was rising within her, "just thinking about stuff."

"Well don't," Tig suggested, and smoothed her hair a little harder and faster. "Now's not a good time to be doing that, trust me."

"But," Joss lifted her head, despite how Tig had tried to keep it against his chest. She had to have an answer to soothe her worries, could feel something gearing up within her that was similar to that horrible madness, but much lesser in scale. Still, the mere suggestion of what she'd become, and what she'd done to Tig, was enough to make her more anxious than she could stand. Besides, what if Tig, in his need to not be thinking about any of the shit that had happened between Friday night and Saturday, hadn't given any thought to the repercussions he may have to face, because of her? Joss had to warn him. She sighed, knowing he wouldn't want to talk, not about this. "Can I ask you one question?"

Now Tig sighed, lifting his head off the pillow a little. "Is it about Ope?" He asked, but he didn't sound angry or even threatened, he just looked at her and slowly shook his head, "Cuz I don't know about that shit myself, yet."

Joss wasn't prepared for that, was stunned that Tig had even brought it up, and now she herself was wondering, what about Opie? Were he and Tig going to be friends now? Would they always not like each other? Would they be the kind of brothers who would always be there for each other, always have each other's backs, but still somehow hate each other? And what was Joss's deportment to be concerning Opie now? Could she speak to him, or was he still on the list of those Tig hadn't approved? Joss worried less about Opie though, this would work itself out, Tig was already thinking about it; that was obvious, she just had to be patient and trust that he'd reach a conclusion that was best for both of them. But her original worry still rained down upon her; Tig's future. "No, it wasn't about Opie." She said, and her eyes sank shamefully downwards for a second. "I'm afraid I may have caused trouble for you…with the…" Joss sighed again, not wanting to relive this, but she had to if they were going to talk about it. "I killed someone, in the clubhouse, and everyone saw…how I did it—"

"Stop!" Tig's long, thick index finger pointed at her. "If this is what you're thinking about, then no, you don't get to do that." His voice was stern and his eyes locked into hers. "The club knows more about covering shit like this than the feds know about how to uncover it, Stahl's gone, and yeah, they'll investigate and may come sniffin' around, but we, YOU, got nothing to do with it!" Tig explained in a masterful and unchallengeable way. "And about anything anyone saw and what it means, you forget it and you forget it now!" He growled at her a little, but he wasn't really angry with her, Joss could tell, he just wanted her to realize she was borrowing misery. "If there was anybody who saw that shit go down and was going to turn their backs on me, or you, as a result, it would have happened already! There ain't no investigations needed here where anyone has to pretend to still be my brother to get the four one one outta me. You put everything out there in front of everyone, baby, and no one flinched!" He paused, maybe realizing he was being a little harsh with her in the way he told her this, but Joss hadn't been offended or scared. Tig was making sense, and the anger in his voice only proved how much he cared about her. "Now stop this shit you're doing, this same shit you always do," he sighed, looking at her with so much affection and so much frustration boiling in the azure of his eyes, and he was still half yelling despite his efforts to tone himself down. "You are my heart, Joss, and you mean so fucking much to me it scares the shit outta me, but Jesus fucking Christ, this is the thing I like least about you, because it's going to pull you apart from inside out one day, and I don't wanna lose you!"

She was his heart? Tig likely didn't even know he'd said that, it wasn't the kind of thing to typically come out of his mouth, but it had, and it had touched Joss so much she felt her eyes welling up, but crying here and now for any reason wasn't a good thing, Tig wouldn't understand it and he'd only get confused and then upset. There was only one thing to do here that was right within the confines of what they shared, and that was to say, "Yes," and nod her head, which Joss did, but looked so deeply into Tig's eyes as she did, then let him press her head down against his chest again, and resume stroking her long, damp black hair. But she was okay now, Tig had explained everything to her, and besides, he'd told her she had to be okay. It likely would seem to ridiculous to anyone else, and downright archaic as well, but property did what property was told, and that included feeling what it was instructed to feel…once any obstacles to arriving there had been removed…Tig, he was so much better at this than even Joss had expected.

It was quiet for awhile, Tig's big hand continuously stroking over her drying hair, each pass growing in its length until his fingers were trailing up and down her back lightly, that sensation, combined with the security of his body and his earlier words, pushing Joss closer to sleep. "Joss," he said, and his voice surprised her, but as soon as Tig had spoken, his hand came back against her head again, holding her where she was, not wanting her to even turn her face to look at him. "Just keep your mouth closed, alright? I don't want an answer outta you," he said, his voice an odd combination of foreboding and fondness that only Tig could pull off. He took a deep breath, the broadness of his chest expanding beneath Joss's cheek as Tig kept her from moving in anyway, not wanting her to look at him. "I'm sorry for thinking what I did about you and Opie." He paused and even though she couldn't see, Joss could feel him wince as he bent his bad arm towards his face, most likely wiping at one of his eyes, based on the emotion she'd heard in his voice, but of course, paid no obvious attention to. "That was pretty fucking stupid on my part, and even as I was doing it, I knew I was dead wrong, but I just couldn't stop myself from getting sucked into it. But I know what you are, baby, and I know what you're not, and I'm going to remember that from now on, but," again he paused and Joss could feel the tension in his muscles, knew he was clenching his jaw against what he was also wiping out of his eye again, "but I'm not good at this. You let me be closer to you than anything else in your world, we're raw meat against raw meat in every way we can be, and you trust me to be next to you, over you, surrounding you and inside of you. I've never had that before, and sometimes, I can't handle the power that comes with it."

A million responses pushed at Joss's lips, but she choked them back, just quietly letting Tig's apology fall over her the way he' d wanted it too, and closed her eyes. There was nothing else said, as the sun rose they both sank into sleep, heavy and thick, Joss's head still upon Tig's broad chest and his good arm still around her, until the sound of a guitar and voices made Joss's eyes open. The sun was high in the sky now, it must have been around noon, and she was the only one in bed, Tig having awakened and gone elsewhere in the house, but it couldn't have been too long ago, because he'd left a CD playing, something than other Journey or Van Halen, and as Joss listened, she began to realize the CD was playing the same song again and again. Why was that? Who put a song on "repeat play" and then left the room it was playing in? Well, the answer to that was obvious, but still…this must have meant something, Tig's success record for communicating anything any other man in a relationship would have just been able to say was far better if he could make Steve Perry, or whoever, say it for him. But that wasn't Steve Perry, or David Lee Roth, or even Sammy Hagar…that was…shit, what was that guy's name? Joss could see his angular features and mop of strawberry blond curls…Roger Daltrey! Hmm…so, what did "The Who" have to say to her, on behalf of Tig?

"When my fist clenches, crack it open

Before I use it and lose my cool

When I smile, tell me some bad news

Before I laugh and act like a fool

If I swallow anything evil

Put your finger down my throat

If I shiver, please give me a blanket

Keep me warm, let me wear your coat"

Chapter 47; Part 2

Gemma sighed and took Joss by the shoulders as she followed Tig into the house. Tuesday night was an odd night for one of these dinners, but of course when Gemma called anyone to the table, they came. However this time, it was dinner for four, Jax and Tara not having been invited, but Joss hadn't allowed herself to make any speculations. She looked back at Gemma now, knowing why it was she'd called yesterday and "invited" she and Tig to dinner; it was just the right amount of time after the events of Friday and Saturday night, not so close that emotions would still be ruling Joss's thoughts, and not so far away that talking about it would have been bringing up the past. Tig had been right about how the club saw Joss, she'd stopped by the garage on Monday, per his request of having lunch with her, but Joss suspected he'd really called her there so she could see how 'back to normal' everything was…only it wasn't…because now all of Tig's brothers looked at her with a reverence and appreciation that should have been reserved for Gemma alone. It had made Joss so nervous and she felt so inadequate when it began to become clearer and clearer to her that in addition to being an unexpected, but welcomed, piece of their brother Tig's life, she was now a holy relic of the reaper crew. She didn't deserve such recognition, she'd hardly been aware of what she was doing, or who she was even killing, and perhaps Gemma had called this dinner into being because she'd wanted to explain just that to her. There was only one "queen" after all, and Joss knew it wasn't her.

She looked back and Gemma and tried to read her features, Gemma looked like she was trying to smile, but couldn't really push it forth, her expertly shadowed eyes taking Joss in with a concerned look. The next thing Joss knew, Gemma was hugging her tightly, even rocking her in her arms a little. "How you doing, baby girl? I've been so worried about you!" She asked as she embraced Joss, who was ashamed that she'd felt so surprised by Gemma's actual motives where this dinner was concerned…wow, she'd never have guessed this dinner was so that Gemma could check on her, because she cared that much.

"I'm okay," Joss answered, realizing all of a sudden that it was okay to hug Gemma back, and she did, feeling a little strangely like it was somehow cheating on Tig, though he'd never let her throw her arms around him and squeeze like that, never. But Tig's hand soon rubbed the small of Joss's back comfortingly, like even he was glad to see Gemma wanted to be there for her.

"Well," Clay sighed and looked at Tig. "Looks like dinner's going to be delayed," he said as he watched his wife and Joss still hugging one another. "Let's go smoke, hopefully they won't forget we exist and then eat without us."

The men departed, leaving the women to themselves, Joss unaware of how long it had been now, but she and Gemma still sat on the couch, drinking their second cups of coffee now, with miniature MilkyWays tossed into the mugs, talking about everything that had happened, even though Joss could tell that Clay had filled Gemma in on all the details…at Gemma's own insistence, most likely. But it was good to have someone to talk to about this, about how all of it made Joss feel, because Tig, well…he loved her, and he would have even understood, but that was the problem; Tig couldn't handle understanding, was more than ready to be there for Joss, but wished to do so without talking about it. But Gemma…wow, she was amazing the way she knew when to speak and when to just listen, and Joss slowly began to realize that she likely knew the kind of support Tig was able to give to her and not able to give to her as well, which was why she'd made the dinner invitation. It had nothing to do with Gemma feeling like she had to protect her "throne," because she was still very much upon it.

Their conversation was nearing its end, not much was left to be said, heard or understood, but Joss still carried one more thought inside her that she'd shared with no one. She grasped her coffee cup with both her hands and set it down in her lap a moment. "Gemma," she said and tried to think of a way to say this that didn't make her sound like she was a junky confronting her addiction or something pathetic like that. "I've been thinking…maybe I need to get some help with this."

"What kind of help do you want?" Gemma asked, no judgment in her voice, her eyes just looking levelly at Joss over the rim of her coffee cup.

Joss shrugged, not wanting to say the words. "I don't know, like a therapist or something…maybe I need to be on meds to get this under control?" She couldn't believe she'd said that, but it had been her fear for the last two days, that maybe she had what her father used to call an "S.M.I.," which was noted psychiatrist speak for "Serious Mental Illness."

"Oh, honey," Gemma sighed; setting down her mug on the coffee table and reaching over to Joss, taking her mug and doing the same with it, then taking both her hands. "Do you know why you did what you did?"

"Yes." Joss nodded, but wished she could say more before Gemma would inevitably cut her off, and she did.

"And your reasons for doing it had nothing to do with the neighbor's dog telling you to do it, and it wasn't because Stahl was an alien here to take over the planet, right?" Gemma continued, smiling a little now, and making Joss do the same.

"No," she laughed a little, though she didn't want to.

"Then that's not crazy, honey." Gemma said, shaking her head, then letting go of Joss's hands and retrieving her coffee. "That's just being pissed off!" She smiled.

Joss acknowledged Gemma's words with a smile and a nod of her head, but she still wasn't convinced, she still didn't feel justified in what she'd done, to everyone that was involved. "But I attacked Tig, Gemma!" She nearly burst out, and was struggling to keep her eyes from tearing up. "And ever since then, we haven't…I mean, I know his shoulder's a mess, but still, it's not like him to just put his arm over me at night and then fall asleep…I think I must have—"

Gemma was shaking her head. "He's giving you time, give him some." She suggested without any doubt in her voice, just some sort of experience that Joss knew she wasn't supposed to question the gaining of. "That man still loves you, and he still wants you, didn't want to leave this room without you, and wouldn't have if Clay hadn't dragged him off. Maybe's he's a little lost right now, he should be, and so should you be. Tig's just been around this shit long enough to realize it, even if you don't." Gemma reached for her coffee again and took a long, relaxed swallow of it, "wow," she smiled, "got a lot of nougat in that one!" She laughed, as if trying to illustrate her lack of concern on this matter, and make Joss understand how normal and temporary what she was going through with Tig was. Gemma languidly chewed the MilkyWay in her mouth. "It's only been two nights, Joss. I bet by tomorrow night you're wishing you did have some of that KY, so Tigger'd slip off of the bed and leave you alone!" She smirked.

Again Joss laughed, but not so much this time. Even she knew this sexless period wouldn't last, but she couldn't shake the regret and the guilt of having attacked Tig, having hurt him, that had twisted everything into one ugly ball. Joss couldn't get away from that, and every time she tried to ignore it, it seemed to just come back at her harder and stronger than before. "But I injured the man I love, Gemma!" She said; her voice crashing for a moment and her lower lip began to quiver a bit. "I love him more than anything else in my life, and still, I did that to his face, and his arm!"

But Gemma didn't respond with the compassion that Joss had expected. "So?" She asked with a shrug of her shoulders. "He questioned your fidelity to him when there was no hard and fast reason to do so, and you reacted. Yeah, you're his, but owning you means he's got to learn how to take care of you the right way, and accusing you of fucking another man isn't 'the right way,' and Tigger 'learned' that you don't like that!" She explained; her tone so relaxed, as if this was so cut and dry, but Gemma could see that it wasn't for Joss, that she couldn't reconcile it. Gemma shook her head and put her coffee down again. "Listen to me, Joss. Sometimes, I forget how young you are, because you carry yourself in this club every bit as well as I do, but you are young, so I'm going to tell you this, and I want you to remember it, okay?"

Joss nodded, feeling so dizzy by the compliment Gemma had just paid her, but her stomach churning with anticipation about what mystic secret Gemma was about to impart to her, and finally Gemma looked right into her eyes and spoke.

"There is nothing wrong with you." Gemma said, and Joss couldn't believe that had been what she said. What? That was the secret? Joss flipped out and killed people…she sliced her man open and tried to eat a piece of him…and there was nothing wrong with her? She started to shake her head at Gemma, but Gemma immediately grabbed her face and made her stop, looking at her endearingly. "No, you listen to me," Gemma said again, sounding more like she was Joss's mother than ever before. "We all have something inside of us that keeps us safe, and keeps everyone we love safe too. Maybe it's not always the prettiest part of us, and maybe it even scares us, and sometimes the people around us too, but if you look at it as being 'something wrong with you,' and think of it as 'needing to be controlled with meds,' then it will make you crazy." Gemma paused and raised her eyebrows at Joss a little. "The only thing that's not normal about the existence of something like that is when we don't have it. But you do! You just need to make friends with it, leash train it, so it'll be there when you need it and will 'sit' and 'stay' when you don't."

Wow…Joss was silent because she couldn't believe how much sense that made. Befriend the beast, and stop thinking of it as a "beast." Wow…could she really get control of this; of herself? There was nothing wrong with her? Really? Okay, so maybe to the rest of the world, she needed help, but the rest of world didn't live where there was room to embrace their "beast"…and maybe that's why so many outsiders just stood by and let shit happen. Wow! "Gemma," Joss said, feeling a strength she'd never felt before, feeling like she'd grown yet again. "Thank you!" But how could she ever truly thank her for giving her this?

"Don't mention it," Gemma smiled, and took another sip of her coffee. "Besides, you didn't do anything I wouldn't have done. You just did it with less flare." She half smirked, and then she Joss both laughed, began to relax against the couch, Joss with such a burden suddenly gone from her shoulders…and her heart. Joss felt more like herself than she had since…well…since Opie had put that bottle of water up on the bar. She could have talked to Gemma about it all night, but then…

"Hey in there," Clay's voice echoed through the kitchen door and down to the living room. He sounded a bit apprehensive to be interrupting, and touch concerned about something too that he was now attempting to solve himself. "Should Tig and I just order a pizza?"


	48. Patched Up

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 48

Today had been the first day that his shoulder hadn't hurt him too much as he gripped the handle bars of the bike. Tig had been thanking the fortunes that had seen him to buying a house that was less than ten minutes away from the garage, otherwise, the ride to and from work these last three days would have been hell. Each morning Joss had tried to get him to take her truck, but no, Tig only caged himself up when he had to, for the club. He could suck it up and ride, or he could bitch out and stay home, the latter not being a real option. But today was a good day, his shoulder was feeling better, Joss seemed much more relaxed and carefree ever since her chat…her long chat…with Gemma last night, and at lunch today Juice had even relayed a message to him from Hob-bitch, saying she wanted Tig to give her a call regarding "something crazy."

"He's almost seventeen hands, three years old, and is in good sound condition, but has been booted out of a job because he's terrified of the starting gate," she'd explained. "You want me to just trailer him to my place, or would you rather come take a look at him first?"

Hmm…Tig hadn't even understood half of what Hob-bitch had said, but he was curious…this was Joss's horse they were discussing after all, something Joss didn't even know was coming to her, and he couldn't wait to give it to her, either! His shoulder was good, a few more miles on the bike to check out the horse wouldn't have been the agony it would have been on Monday or Tuesday, but then Tig heard an infamous sound in the background of their call that quickly made his decision for him. "Na, there's cows there; I can hear 'em…I can't go there." He explained to Hob-bitch, who replied with a very confused, "Oh-Kay," but Tig didn't get into it, asking her instead, "it'll jump, right? I don't wanna get her something broke down."

"Oh yeah, he's never fractured anything, he's just got gate issues," answered Hob-bitch, who really was cool.

"Good," Tig replied, having one more question. "It's a pretty one, right? Joss doesn't wear a lotta bling, so I want her to have something people'll look at and wish they had too."

He could tell that Hob-bitch was smiling, thought what he'd said was really sweet…and if she implied that in her response, or complimented him for saying what he said then she was going to lose some of her coolness. "Yeah, he's a really gorgeous dapple gray; dark mane and tail and legs, really striking!" Again Tig had no idea what that meant, but Hob-bitch just got cooler every time he talked to her, just sticking with the business at hand, not getting all touchy-feely with her words, or talking to him like he was some big, scary, stupid thing that needed everything explained to him…like, "I have to flush the wound…"…fucking doctor bitch…

"Cool!" Tig answered, smiling himself now. "Do it, I'll bring Joss out to your place to meet him tomorrow, so if you talk to her before then, don't say anything." This was all kinds of good! Not only would it make Joss happy, really really happy, it would also maybe push a tighter friendship between Joss and Hob-bitch, and then he'd hang with Happy and his girl a little more, so Joss would have two really good friends, and she could leave doctor bitch in the dust…that worthless cunt…Tig didn't want Joss talking to her anymore. "Thanks," he said to Hob-bitch, and flipped the phone shut again, never imagining he'd be excited by a conversation with a girl that he had no plans of fucking, about something he had no real interest in himself, but he was excited! Finally, things were becoming normal again…or at least as normal as they'd ever been in his life, but he and Joss, they were moving back into that place they were in prior to all the shit that had yanked them out of it and slammed them into cold, hard ground. It felt…like being alive, there was no other way to describe it. So, what was going to happen next to fuck everything up?

Pulling into the garage he noticed that one of his smaller silver wrenches was missing off of the peg board, and several others that were larger, hanged crookedly on their hooks, obviously having been yanked on. That fucking chipmunk! Shit, it wasn't enough that it kept taking the screws and the washers and the nuts, now it was trying to take wrenches too? What the fuck, was it building something? Tig fumed a bit as he removed his helmet, looking at his workbench and shaking his head, but he wanted to go in and kiss Joss, rant and rave a little about her woodland pals, and then he'd come back out here and try to find all his shit…one more time.

He could see Joss through the screen of the door into the kitchen she was standing at the stove, wearing one of his old SAMCRO shirts and nothing else, just like she always was when he came home from work and she wanted to make herself "available" to him…hmm…that was something he hadn't seen in the last two or three days…finally! He nearly forgot the damn chipmunk as he grabbed the handle of the screen door and bounded into the kitchen. "Hey," he said, walking right up behind her and pulling her back against him, Joss protesting a bit because she'd been stirring something noodle-y looking in a pot on the burner. "Missed you, baby." He said, pressing a kiss to the side her face, wanting to reach around in front of her and turn the fucking stove off, he had other hungers to be satisfied, but Tig didn't know how the fucking stove worked.

"Tig," Joss laughed, leaning back against him and turning her head towards him and looking up to kiss him, but the odd angle didn't allow for anything really good that could have persuaded her down onto the floor…no, over to the table, her sitting on it, him standing, that was better! "You're late," Joss said, and sadly she went back to her stirring.

Fuck…had he somehow misread the signals? Or was he just so hard-up that by now, everything looked like a signal? Joss hadn't quite been herself since the…incidents…and Tig had been too afraid of pushing her into something she wouldn't be able to deny him before she was ready to give it to him…but man…he wasn't built to not fuck something at least twice a day! What the hell? He'd been afraid of forcing himself on his property? Did that thought ever feel wrong and out of place inside his head! What was next? Curling up with Joss on the couch and watching the 'Lifetime Movie Channel?' Fuck no! But luckily, his dark, sweet, perfect angel wasn't into that "chick flick" shit…which was only one more reason that she was perfect. But, what exactly was she saying to him with this shirt on and nothing under it? Was she wantin' him, or was she just doing a lot of laundry today? Okay, Tig needed to gather more intelligence on this situation.

"I was on the phone with someone before I could leave," he said, and backed away from Joss and turned to go over and get a beer from the refrigerator, but looking over his shoulder to see if Joss leaned in his direction when he moved away…and she…did! Okay, point in his favor!

Joss laughed. "You were answering the phones today? That must have been fun for all involved!"

She didn't look at him when she spoke; fuck…point in the "no sex" column. "No, they did that once years ago, made me cover Gemma's lunch…we almost went out of business," Tig said, twisting off the cap on the bottle. "One fucking fat bitch comes in wearing this dress with palm tree leaves all over it, and all I said was, 'that's a lot of foliage!' and she gets all mad and shit."

"Tig!" Joss exclaimed, ashamed of him…fuck, another point in the "no sex" column, but then she laughed; yes! Another point for him! "That wasn't very nice of you, Wingnut! Are you going to talk about me that way if I get fat some day?"

Wingnut? What the hell column did he score that one in? Aw fuck, a point for both he and the "no sex" column. He took a swallow of his beer and smirked back at Joss, "not if you're wearing polka-dots!"

She dropped her spoon and shot him an exasperated glare over her shoulder. "You are such an ass!"

Damn…the "no sex" column was pulling ahead! C'mon…he needed it tonight…fuck tonight, he needed it NOW! He'd wanted to be close to her so badly that he'd been letting her snuggle up to him at night…and it was starting to not be so freaky…and that just wasn't right! If Tig had to fight for some pussy to make things right again…given pussy, not taken pussy, he'd do it! What the fuck? Why, all of a sudden, were there different rankings of pussy? Well, okay, so there always had been, but it hadn't been based on how it was gotten…shit, he really just needed to get laid before his head exploded…both of them! He walked back up to Joss, standing with his body right up against hers again, "I'm sorry, baby! You're not going to get fat…vegetarians don't eat enough to get fat." There! She hadn't reacted yet, but Tig was kicking himself a point anyway.

Joss shook her head, making Tig a little nervous that another point was about to be won by the "no sex" team, but then Joss leaned back into him, making him groan, and almost forgot to score another one for him…damn did she feel good against him like this! He had missed her, but he hadn't realized how much until now. "Hey," she said as he bent down over her, nuzzling her hair clear of her neck so he could rub the dark stubble of his cheek against it. "I know you've been trying to give me my space, and let me get myself figured out, but, I'm okay, Tig." Finally she turned away from the stove and faced him, her body still just as close to his as it had been when she didn't face him. Oh yeah, this was like a good one hundred points in his favor! Suck it, "no sex" column! Joss looked up at him, smiled a bit as she laid her palms against his chest, over his garage shirt, trying to rub his skin through the polyester, but it was okay, Tig was getting to like her touching him there, it meant she wanted him! "So, how's the shoulder feeling?"

And the "no sex" column went down in flames! Yes! Tig hooked her around the waist and drew her even closer, his body immediately remembering what it used to do to hers, and all systems were "go" to do it again! "What shoulder?" He asked her, then kissed her, moving her away from the stove and picking her up and sitting her on the counter top…it was actually higher than the table, so it would probably be even better!

He was surprised when Joss wasn't complaining about this being the counter top, where food was usually placed…that kind of stuff bothered her, but she wasn't saying a damn thing, just kissing him, sucking at his tongue and lips as her fingers worked rapidly to get his gray Teller-Morrow shirt unbuttoned and pushed away from his chest, not able to get it, or his cut off, but her fingers rushing through the dark curls beneath his shirt anyway, tracing some dual highway maps along the prominence of his pectoral muscles, her hands curving upwards and over the muscles, getting a good feel of him that made her moan a little, and that alone had Tig's big cock throbbing. Her hand fanned out over what she appreciatively held, lightly brushing each fingertip across his nipples. Tig felt sparks go off inside of him and growled, pulling her shirt up, wanting to take it off of her, but he couldn't remove it while he held her clamped to him the way he did, and he wasn't about to let go of her body, but he did remember that the stove was right there next to them, and not wanting Joss to inadvertently get burned as plunged nearly five days worth of pent up lust, desire and need into her, he grabbed her ankle, lifting her leg up, and hooking her foot over his good shoulder, her toes at the back of his neck, keeping her safe, and giving Tig so much wonderful access to something that was even more than wonderful! The fingers of his bad arm walked down her body, between her big, beautiful tits he hadn't sucked on or nipped at in days, over her flat stomach that hadn't quivered at his touch since last Friday, his digits heading straight down into the moist heat he could already taste on the air from between her legs…and then his cell rang.

Both of them stopped abruptly and sighed, since Joss's hands were closest, she fished inside his cut to the pocket she knew his cell was in pulling it out, even as Tig was advancing on her again and starting to kiss her neck. "Fuck 'em, I'll take it later!" He insisted breathlessly, ignoring the ringing phone in her hands.

"No you won't," Joss said looking down mournfully at the phone. "It's Clay."

"Motherfucker!" He grabbed the phone from Joss and took a deep breath before flipping it open, not angry of course at Clay for calling, it was just the timing of it all…shit, he hadn't fucked Joss in what felt like forever, and while there had been plenty of other 'holes' he could have 'filled' hanging around the clubhouse, it just wouldn't have been the same…fuck…had he really just thought that? Damn that girl! She was sneaking all kinds of below the belt shit in on him! Whatever, talk to Clay, then fuck the hell outta Joss…hard…really hard…for making him stay true to her…get all the bang for his buck and buck for his bang…whatever the fuck that meant…he was going to "nike" it and "just do it!" "Yeah?" He said into the phone, and then turned and took the call back out into the garage, shutting both the screen door and the house door behind him.

"Got something on my mind I wanted to run past you before 'church' Friday," Clay said as Tig tried to refocus himself and get some blood running to other areas of his body besides his dick, poking around the workbench, assessing what he was missing and where things had been relocated too…fucking chipmunk…he had a whole stash of shit in the narrow space between the garage wall and the stacks of bike tires, little sticks and twigs and hair and washers and screws, a brass fastener and even a gum wrapper, all stuck out just where Tig could see it…little fucker had his own little clubhouse back there…

"Okay," Tig replied to Clay, hoping this was nothing bad, things were so nearly back to the way they were when Tig had actually felt good for the first time in he couldn't remember how long. It made him a little less crazy, but that was okay, because Joss was the one who noticed it the most, and she wasn't going to tell anyone. "What's up? What can I do?"

Clay's words became a little cryptic. "That, uh, mechanic we had working in the clubhouse the other night," he said and paused, waiting for Tig's affirmation that he was following along, which of course he was, and was now hoping that everything he'd said to Joss about no one turning their backs on either of them was still holding true. "We gotta do something to mark that occasion, that's SAMCRO legend now, and it deserves some… commemoration, so that every brother in this club now, or joining it in the future, knows why we're still here."

Holy fuck! "Clay, man," Tig was a little apprehensive though. "Mechanic's already wearing a patch, I don't want to even see an honorary cut awarded…no 'MC' on her back, shit goes down, she'd be just as fucked as we are."

Clay's laughter surprised Tig. "Yeah, I'm sure that was your first thought about a awarding a cut!" He chuckled. "That ain't what I was talking about, brothers are brothers; they'll never be sisters." He promised, and Tig relaxed a bit, now able to feel the honor that should have come with Clay's suggestion at the start of this conversation. His Joss, his dark, sweet, perfect angel was going to have her very own place of prominence within SAMCRO! "But I think we do need a patch," said Clay. "And since you're the owner of our little muse here, you think about what it's going to be, what it'll look like, and we'll announce it at 'church,' maybe have a few made up by then to hand out."

Tig was smiling, he couldn't make himself stop, first the horse, then Joss wanted to fuck him, and now this! Yeah…his girl, she was…wow! Nope, no one had an old lady like her, no one! And, Jax was going to be shittin' love beads…sitting there all smug cuz his old lady was a 'physician'…but until the club had a use, purpose, or some whimsical need of a "worthless cunt" patch, doctor bitch was as useless and vain as Jax was himself! "Yeah!" Tig answered, more emotion about it in his voice than he'd planned to let show, but hey, it was Clay he was talking to, it was cool. "I'll have something for you by tomorrow!" And he would, this patch was going to be easy to come up with, he could already see it in his mind, and it was perfect, as perfect as his dark little angel was herself! God damn, he couldn't wait to tell Joss about this! But like the horse, he'd wait, hopefully there'd be some made up by Friday night, and he could show them to her at the party, and then tell her!

"Great," Clay replied, and Tig could hear the smile in his voice. "You take care of that girl," he said. "Cuz you really are blessed with having that one to put up with your crazy-ass shit."

Tig laughed, looked back towards the kitchen, but he'd closed all the doors to keep club business club business, but he still smiled when he thought of Joss. "Yeah, I am." Out of the corner of his eye, Tig saw something move down around the sticks and the twigs and the hair and stolen shiny objects on the floor by the bike tires. That fucking chipmunk! What was he stuffing away in his little lair that was really Tig's this time? Joss would be really mad if he killed the little fucker…but maybe if Tig could just catch him in one of the now near empty jars his screws had been in and then just find him another little chipmunk place to be that was far away from the garage? He'd even toss in a washer or two, just so the little fucker would have something to start over with. But he couldn't attempt this with only one hand…"Clay, thanks a lot, man." Tig said sincerely, but he hoped that this would bring about the end of the conversation…not only did he have a chipmunk to evict, but he had Joss warming in the kitchen too!

"Don't mention it," Clay answered. "Talk to you tomorrow about that patch, see ya then." And the line went dead.

Great! Tig set his phone down on the workbench as he picked up the jar, dumping the three remaining screws out of it and walking softly over across the garage, first setting the jar down in front of all the sticks and twigs and shit, then going to the opposite end of the stacked tires from where the chipmunk's clubhouse was, pushing them up against the wall all of the way, sealing the "back door" shut. He heard something behind the tires move, like he'd startled it…good; the little fucker was home…hopefully, he'd appear in the jar soon! Tig quickly moved back to the lair side of the tires, crouching down and peering into the narrow space between them and the wall…yeah, there was something still in there alright…come on out, little fucker! Something rustled again, sounded sorta pissed off…and Tig could hear it approaching the jar. He reached down and held it steady, eagerly awaiting the emergency of the little rat.

And then something did appear, like a flash, but it didn't run, or scamper, or scurry, or any of the things Tig was expecting. It lunged, its scaly head throttling out ahead of its long cream colored and tan body that was covered with even darker brown saddles, and it bit him, hard, every tooth sinking in deeply, right on his hand.


	49. Within the Coils

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 49

"God damn it!" Even through the closed house door Joss had heard Tig yell. Her stomach tightened, and she stopped spooning mashed potatoes into a bowl, setting the pot down on the counter and walking towards the garage…but not sure if she should barge out there or not. She could only think one thing; the feds…they'd somehow found out the truth about Stahl's body…that hadn't taken long…and now the club was in jeopardy, and— "Joss!" Tig yelled next, stopping the anxiety attack she was about to have. Her hand was instantly on the door, flinging it open and practically running through the screen door, what had happened? Tig was obviously going to make her part of whatever his conversation with Clay had been, but it didn't sound good.

"What's wrong?" She asked, out of breath already, expecting to see him standing with clenched fists and worried eyes, but instead, he was standing there looking a bit shaken up, like he was still trying to make sense of something. He held is hand to her, his good hand…there was blood running down from in between his wrist and thumb…what the fuck? "Tig?" She asked, because he seemed a little dumbfounded, just showing her his bloody hand like she was supposed to be able to figure it out from there. She ran the few steps over to him, cradling his hand in one of hers while her other hand supported his arm by the elbow, looking down at the blood, but she couldn't see anything, other than the red streaks that were now running into her hand as well. It was bleeding nicely, but she didn't immediately see anything that was disfiguring, no broken fingers, no missing fingers, nothing seemed to be all that serious…but something had definitely caught him off guard, there was an expression on his face that made him look nearly unrecognizable.

"I just got bit by a snake." Tig declared as Joss tried to make sense of the blood on his hand, and he sounded like he really couldn't believe that it was a statement made in first person.

What? No, he was making that up…that shit didn't really happen to people…well, it did, but come on, it wasn't that long ago in the kitchen they'd been seconds from tearing into one another; his shirt was still unbuttoned, even! And Tig was only out here, in the garage, on the phone with Clay, how the hell did any of that end with Tig being bitten by a snake? "Are you sure?"

Now he wore an expression she'd seen before, leveling his eyes at her and cocking his head. "No, I'm not," he said, exploding with a great deal of annoyance, every word dripping with panicked sarcasm. "It mighta been my exhaust pipe crawled off of the bike and came over, fucked me up, and went right back where it belongs before you got here!" He yelled, whipping his hand out of hers and gesturing spastically as he shouted. "Why the fuck would I not be sure?"

"Okay, I'm sorry!" Joss shouted back, but there was worry in her voice now…oh God, this was real? This actually happened? She reached out and took Tig's bloody hand again. "Well, what did it look like?"

"A snake!" He yelled.

Even in her worry, Joss rolled her eyes. This was like the "X" he'd taken awhile back, not having explained to her that he was trying it out, and when he'd started to act very peculiarly, even for Tig, she'd been forced to ask, "Tig did you…take something?"

"Hell yeah!" He'd responded emphatically, like leading some kind of weird cheer.

Joss had nodded, not so enthused. "And what did you take?"

"Some 'X'."

"How much 'X'?"

"All of it!"

Joss shook her head and looked up at Tig again now, trying to get him settled down, just like she'd done with the "X," and he did seem to be a little less demented about what had happened, regaining his focus…the reality of it maybe beginning to strike him in the same fearsome way it was beginning to strike her. "What color was the snake?" She'd entertained herself while he'd been on that run to Indio with long walks through the woods, had read the backyard nature book from cover to cover, and she was praying for Tig to describe the animal as being black with white bands; that would have been one of the California King Snakes, big mouth and an impressive bite, but completely harmless.

He looked down at her then both of them stared at his bleeding hand. "Kinda white-ish tan," he said, "with big brown spots all down its back."

Oh God! Joss felt herself tremble, a cold wave crashing over her, and she should have kept her damn mouth shut, but the words bounded out as her worst fear was confirmed. There was only one venomous species around their house, and God damn if it didn't look like what Tig had just described! "Oh my God, it sounds like a Western Rattlesnake!"

"What?" Tig had asked, half bending his knees now as if he suddenly felt weak. That had of course been his initial fear, that it was something poisonous, it had been Joss's initial fear as well, but she had carried some hope that it wasn't that grim a fate…but white to tan colored body with big brown blotches down its back…Shit! Tig looked at her, back to that dumbfounded, unrecognizable expression again. "Are you sure?"

But Joss didn't have time to entertain that question; luckily her wildlife book had a section about first aid for snakebites, and she was headlong into execution mode of what she'd memorized. "Tig, listen to me, this is important!" She said. "You need to be as calm as you can be right now, if you get upset and make your heartbeat faster, the venom is going to be carried around your body in no time! So take some deep breaths, try to relax." She instructed, stepping around behind him and pulling at his arm a little. "Lie down, don't move, just take it easy, okay?" She'd hoped he'd listen, she didn't have time to tell him twice, already yanking at the sleeve of the shirt she wore, ripping it off and then tearing it down the seam to make one broad piece of cloth, noticing his cellphone was sitting on the workbench and grabbing it as Tig, to her surprise, was complying with her orders, trying to find a comfortable place on the garage floor, and staying as calm as he could.

"Alright look," he said, lying back against the concrete, next to his bike, watching her with nervous and pleading blue eyes. "These last few days have really sucked shit; you and me not going so good, then I get shot, and now I'm snake-bit…" Tig looked up at her, trying to be strong, trying not to worry her, but Joss knew he was scared, who wouldn't have been? She certainly was! "So, if this is going to kill me, how long's it going to take?"

Joss gasped at his words, it was a future she wasn't willing to grace with her energies. "It's not going to kill you!" she informed him, as if stepping between him and death itself…which she'd gladly do if ever the time came…and maybe it had? No! She wouldn't think it! She knelt down behind where Tig lay on the floor, shaking with what she wished so hard against. "You're mine, I love you, God damn it! And I'm not going to let it!" She promised him, her voice betraying the fear coursing through her, taking control of this in a way that surprised her, almost like when she'd decided to kill Opie, only this time, there was no wishy-washiness. Joss didn't doubt herself; she was all fight and would accept no other outcome besides Tig living through this, and she wouldn't let him accept any other outcome than that himself! "You're too fucked up for snake venom to really have much of an effect on you, baby! You've been living with poisons a lot more toxic than this shit can even imagine in there!" Joss quickly tapped Tig's chest, noticing how he looked at her, like she was his life-line. And if he needed one, she was here! "Now, give me your hand," she ordered, putting his phone down beside her and holding the ripped shirt sleeve with both her hands, Tig raising his injury to her as she gently pulled him back against her even more, his shoulders upon her thighs as she knelt and his head just below her thundering heart. There, being reclined against her like that had to be a little more comfortable than laying flat on the concrete garage floor. "We have to get some compression on and around the bite," she explained as she took his bloody hand and stretched the knitted shirt sleeve around it, tying it just tightly enough to secure it then lay his make-shift bandaged hand down on the concrete floor. "And keep your hand below your heart," she said, grabbing his phone now. "I'm calling nine one one."

"No!" Tig twisted in protested, sitting up a little to swipe at his phone with what used to be his 'bad' arm. "I am not going back to Jax's doctor bitch!"

"Tig!" Joss shouted at him, her arms quickly wrapping around him to pull him back and hold him still, her strength crumbling a bit the more he fought her. Oh God, they needed the hospital, there was just no other chance for him! "I'm sorry, I realize how the property thing works, but I'm initiating a new clause where if you're dying, I get to make the decisions!" She was so scared! She couldn't lose Tig! How in hell had this all even happened? It wasn't fair…she'd been living with the fear of losing Tig always looking over her shoulder or so many weeks now, and then finally everything blew up and vanished it…but not for long. Here she was, about to lose him all over again, only this time, there was little she could actually do to prevent it. Oh God! Oh Jesus! Joss wanted to throw herself down and cry…but she didn't dare…she was all Tig had, and just like with Opie, she had to protect him, even from himself! But, did she have to yell at him? Shit…did she want her last words to him to be her bitchy yelling? No! He wasn't going to die! She wasn't going to let him die! She gasped and looked down at him, realizing he was looking up at her with a little more fear in his wide blue eyes than there was before…no wonder, given what she'd shouted. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean that!" She quickly said, and resumed flipping open his phone, but Tig resumed trying to sit up.

"I think I got time, let's just take your truck to the hospital in the next county!" He was saying as Joss pulled him back against her again, but he fought with her, Joss's arms going around him tighter, holding him around his shoulders, her hands unable to meet over the expanse of his broad chest.

"Tig, stop it!" She ordered, and also begged, his arms still fighting hers, both hands making fists, which pulled the knot she'd tied in the t-shirt sleeve open and the bandage popped off. Damn it! He needed compression on the bite, to stop the venom from coursing wildly through his entire arm, but she couldn't reach for it to put it back on and hold him down all at the same time…she really couldn't hold him down at all, he was too damn strong! She struggled with him for what seemed like hours, but it had only been a few seconds, his bitten hand suddenly crossing in front of her eyes…and something didn't look right. The blood had been wiped away now by both the bandage and their exertion, and under it was an "M" shaped line of little needle-like punctures…not the two wounds from hypodermic, venomous saliva delivering fangs. "Oh my God!" Joss shrieked again, only this time, it was for different reasons. "Tig, hold still a minute, please!"

Her exclamation had made him stop fighting her and he looked up at her again as she took his injured hand. "What?" He asked anxiously. "What's it doing?"

"Gopher Snake!" The words popped out of Joss's mouth as if they were an answer she wasn't able to think of in time on some game show. Fuck! Losing Tig was the biggest fear in her life, and maybe it was because it had nearly come down to that not so long ago that it had made her memorization skills fail her. But she remembered now! Gopher Snakes were the same colors and similarly marked as the Western Rattlesnakes, but they had long, tube like bodies that were the same cylindrical shape from start to finish…and, they were harmless! "Tig, did you notice if the snake had a triangular shaped head?"

"Why?" He asked back, obviously confused now, but holding still with one of her arms still wrapped around him, half afraid to move, pending her answer.

Joss looked at the bite again, just to make sure she wasn't seeing things. Nope, no fang marks, none. Also absent was the hideous purple swelling of dying cells being digested by the hemolytic venom of a Western Rattlesnake, as well as the excruciating pain that Tig would have been in by now. She sighed, closed her eyes for a moment, and let go of his hand, placing her other arm around him again…Tig, he was going to be fine! "Thank you God!" She shouted first, looking up at the ceiling then looked down at her man. "Baby, I was wrong! It wasn't a rattlesnake! That looks nothing like what a rattlesnake bite looks like, and it's not behaving at all like a rattlesnake bite!" She smiled down at him, holding him in her arms, that wouldn't have let him go for anything.

But Tig was still a tightly constricted mess in her arms. "Make up your mind, Joss!" He yelled, looking up at her like he didn't believe her…or didn't know what to believe now…she had been so sure the first time when she'd told him it was a rattlesnake…and now she was taking it back…yeah, no wonder he wasn't just accepting this and sitting up, wiping his brow with a "shooo, that was close!" kind of attitude. But then…he couldn't sit up…she was holding him, her arms were tightly around him, both of them, threaded through his arms and holding him against her, giving him a hug, but from the back and not the front…her hands clasped together over his bare chest that showed through his unbuttoned Teller-Morrow shirt…uh-oh.

"I did," she said, and tried not to sound too light hearted…letting go of him, trying not to move too quickly or too slowly in doing so in the hopes that he maybe wouldn't notice that she'd exceeded the "elbow zone." "I'm sorry, Tig, I panicked and thought the worst. But you can believe me; I know what I'm saying now." Odd, her arms were creeping away from him, setting him free, but Tig wasn't bolting up to get away from her, or freaking out because she'd had a hold of him…did he still think he was dying? "Tig, there's nothing wrong with you," she said, smiling a little now. "You're okay!"

He'd heard her, she could tell that, but he wasn't looking at her, he was watching her hands moving away off of his chest, glancing to the right and left as her arms retreated from around him, still not moving to sit up, and looking a little…God help Joss for thinking it, but disappointed. And then he did glance up at her, giving her some kind of "what the fuck?" look and then reaching for her hands that rested on the garage floor now. "Maybe I don't wanna be!" He yelled again, and grabbed both of her wrists, pulling her arms around him again, and plastering her palms against his bare chest.


	50. Eden

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 50

"Joss," Tig looked up at her and shook his head. What the fuck was he doing? What the fuck had even happened? He started out reclaiming his garage from a fucking chipmunk, and then he was dying, and then 'Hallelujah!' he was saved again! That was a lot to fucking go through! Okay, that was probably why he was still laying back against her soft, sweet body as she knelt on the garage floor, her loving arms still around him, her elbows bent just about under his own, and his hands folded over both of hers where they sat on the strip of bare skin down his chest. Yeah…he was still in shock, most likely delirious, probably didn't even really know where he was, who he was with, or what he was even up to. Shit, nope, he couldn't convince himself of that…there was way too much evidence to the contrary…he was here, in Joss's arms, because he…wan—Nooooooo! It wasn't that, it couldn't be that…yeah, he was in shock…delirious…wasn't even sure what his name was…that was a much easier concept to deal with. He'd felt himself stiffen up as he thought his position over, but as Joss moved behind him, leaning over him to rest her chin on the top of his head, he felt himself relax into her again…fuck! Why'd she have to make this so easy to do? But she wasn't calling attention to the fact that he was in her arms…for the first time since he'd met her. She really was perfect. Tig kept shaking his head as Joss looked down at him smiling softly, but holding him tightly…so tightly in the luxury of her arms, her beautiful breasts his pillow. No, don't go getting all lost in that shit! "I still don't like this!" He said, looking up at her disgustedly, but his voice didn't have that perturbed and put off urgency that he'd planned.

"Okay," she smiled softly, patiently, and her hands began to slide apart over his chest as her arms slowly faded from around his body. It was strange how without her arms there, he really noticed the change in the air temperature, and it almost chilled him to feel it in the places that Joss had been holding so securely, her body moving back away from his, not there to support him like it once was, leaving him on his own, alone…setting him free…into a nothingness Tig didn't feel ready to face. It had been ten times as unsettling the first time she'd let go of him, leaving him with such a confused and almost abandoned feeling; in her arms and against the lusciousness of her welcoming form one moment, and then suddenly, nothing. She hadn't just been holding him in her arms, she'd been holding him back from death, refusing to let him go, because that's how much he meant to her…how could he not want to feel that, forever? Shit…he hated not being in her arms more than he hated being in them, and he wanted her to hold him and caress him, so he could lay here and fucking hate it some more! What the fuck kinda sense was that? Jesus fucking Christ…how did Joss live with him? But she did…somehow…and had been ready to fight hell to continue doing so, too. "Sorry," Joss said, her arms drawing back a lot faster than he'd have liked. "I'll stop, I just kinda…forgot in the moment and all."

"No," Tig spit out before she'd totally moved away from him, and he rolled slightly to the left then the right, seeking her hands, "I didn't mean 'let go, I don't like this now!'" he immediately pushed himself back against her to tie her arms around himself again. This was all like some weird Garden of Eden shit…a snake shows up, bites him, and now here he was, partaking of the forbidden fruit…but then, he'd been the one who forbade it…so…what did that mean? He was God! No, he wasn't…but wow…he'd get those fucking cows for sure if he was! Fuck! No cows! Don't do it! No cows! No cows! No cows! Okay, good, they were gone…the cows had gone home…hey! That's what the cows were supposed to do! What was up with Capistrano, then? Mooooooo! Fuck! No cows! No cows! Okay…he was fine…but what the fuck had he been thinking about? Jesus, he was even more scatterbrained than usual…

Aw shit! God Damn shit! Joss was fucking strangling his body with her arms! What the hell? She knew better than—oh…oh yeah…he'd actually been who did that…and as soon as he'd re-embraced himself within he her arms and piled her hands on top of his chest once more, Joss had smiled, said nothing, but gave him a squeeze that made Tig's eyes shut, and he just dissolved into it; damn she felt good…shit, he'd probably get an amazing night's sleep if she held him like this all night…her skin was soft, her body had curves in all the right places…she was like…like…one of those sleep number beds! What the flaming hell was he talking about? That snake really wasn't venomous, right? Tig realized he was shaking a little now, like he'd caught himself enjoying this and didn't know how to react to that insight …which he didn't. But he took a deep breath, herding his thoughts towards what he knew to be true: Joss had held him back from death. She loved him that much. Yes, this was happening…and it was…weird that it was…but it was okay to like it…for now…but maybe not later on…it definitely had to have some fucking some ground rules. "Joss, this is…right now, it's not so…sometimes I might want…" fuck, he couldn't even say it! At least he couldn't say it that way. He sighed, got in touch with how frustrated with himself he was for even being here and not wanting to get away like he usually did. "Look, just don't be hanging on me all the time! We good?"

Again Joss smiled. "I know, Tig," she nodded, moved her hands a bit beneath his at his chest, her fingertips rubbing soft, little circles near his heart. "Nothing's changed."

"Yeah!" Tig replied vehemently, driving home that point, but he didn't move; he just lie back in her arms and let himself start to feel pleasantly dizzy with the motion of her gentle touch on his skin. He sighed…there was so much to be won by having Joss in his life, but why'd it always seem like he had to lose in order to win? Shit…it was just too much to think about, and he'd been through enough…he really did need some down time, and this was it…surprisingly, and weirdly, enough…and sex, he needed that too…a lot of it. He bent one knee, letting one foot sit flat on the floor and take a little bit of the burden of supporting his heavy frame off of Joss; she was such a little, damn thing, not like Hob-bitch, but still, Tig was a good sixty or seventy pounds heavier than she was, at least…how much did Joss weigh anyhow? He could probably bench press her. Hmm…would she let him try that? Sturgis! Yeah, that would be cool! Showing her off, partying all night, and that old naked guy riding around on a motorized porch swing…what? Why did that fucking matter? Couldn't he just lie back and enj—fucking hate this without oddball thoughts bouncing off the walls inside his head? Well…no…that was sorta his signature…but man…it was like being in her arms had short circuited something, or jostled something up from the depths of his mind that was on its way to the surface, but shaking and quaking everything around as it did. Stop, just be calm…get control…Joss loved him, she held him back from death…there was nothing wrong…

Holy fuck! Again Tig stiffened in Joss's arms, but this time, it had nothing to do with her arms being around him. Joss! His beautiful, sweet, dark, perfect angel! She was going to kill Opie! Tig couldn't quite figure out what the hell she was doing at the clubhouse the night she'd killed Stahl…and actually when she'd appeared there, a wrench in her hand, he'd sort of suspected that maybe, just maybe, the spider monkey's true target had been him…he hadn't been the best of men to Joss that day, accusing her of fucking Opie and all, it would have made sense the monkey was gunning for him…but that wasn't it. No, he'd accused her of dealings with Opie, and the only way for Joss to prove to Tig that she had no feelings for Opie, and no loyalty to him…that everything she was would always invariably belong to her man, was to kill Opie! "I want a gun," it all made fucking sense now! Whoa…Stahl had just gotten in her way…and it probably didn't help that Stahl's case that she shot Tig either…the spider monkey was a protective, vindictive little spitfire…whoa…his angel wasn't just any angel, she was his guardian angel! Fuck! Why hadn't he been able to seam this all together before? It was so fucking obvious, but it took a snakebite, the preparation to die, and Joss holding him fiercely away from the grip of whatever tried to take him away from her, to finally align all these pieces. Wow, he should say something…but what? What did he say to someone who loved him that much? He closed his eyes and turned his face towards her neck, nuzzling it and leaning back into her more, clutching at her arms, pressing them against his body harder, wanting to feel the power of her embrace again, to feel how lucky he was that she loved him.

Joss read his signals, complying immediately, laying her head over top of his and holding him to her, so secure and so hers. She sighed, and Tig braced himself to hear words out of her mouth that he'd rather not hear with all the everything happening inside of him…shit…if she told him she loved him at this particular moment…something was going to happen that he wouldn't be proud of…even if Joss would never tell anyone that he'd cried. But she was after all perfect, and when she opened her mouth, nothing emotion laced came out. "So, I should have probably asked this earlier, but," Joss began, breaking the silence that shrouded Tig's mind as he tried to think of something to say, something important and meaningful that would let her know just how he was feeling inside, and what he felt for her…but of course, he couldn't come up with anything and just snuggled even more into Joss's arms. She slowly moved from a kneeling position to a sitting one, Tig grimacing as he thought about how she'd had her knees bent up under all his mass for so long now, but Joss said nothing, only readjusted herself without once having to let go of him, and now he was even more comfortable against her, his head laying back upon her shoulder…he could turn his head and kiss her neck from here…yeah…he'd been chasing an entirely different fox when he'd come home…now could be a pretty good time to resume that hunt! But Joss leaned her cheek against his hair, cutting off his access. "Where'd the snake get to?" She asked.

Oh yeah, the snake! Tig had almost forgotten about that now, despite the punctures in his hand; they burned a little, but it wasn't so bad. "I don't know," he answered, trying to settle his rip-roaring thoughts and remember. "It went out, I flung it."

Joss started to laugh, but then stifled herself. "You what?"

Why was she laughing? This had all happened back in the part of the story when he was dying! "It wouldn't come off, and it was freaking me out! I didn't have a lot of time to think, so I ran over there," he pointed sort of behind them at the open garage door, "and went 'uuuuuuuuulllllllllllllllll!'" He whipped his bitten hand outward like he was throwing a Frisbee with lethal force, Joss starting to titter with laughter again. "And that motherfucker went flyin' ass over head!"

He wasn't laughing, but Joss was, a lot now, trying to stop, but of course the more she tried to stop, the more she laughed. "I'm sorry," she snorted between her giggles that wanted to bust forth and be more than just that, her face was red, an uncontrollable smile parting her lips, there were even tears in her eyes. "It's not funny, baby, I know it's not…"

"Then what are you laughing at me for?" He was almost able to bellow, but seeing Joss in such a state was pulling at the corners of Tig's mouth too, something resembling laughter rattling at the end of his question. But it wasn't funny…was it?

Joss took a deep breath, composing herself, but her face was still red and her eyes were still kind of teary, but in a good way. "I'm not laughing at you," she said. "I'm not! Really! I swear!" She continued, looking into his eyes so he'd know she wasn't; that she'd never laugh at him. "But sometimes you just do stuff that makes me laugh…and I don't even know why it does. But I can't stop laughing when you do it!" She was beginning to laugh a little bit again, but was fighting to stay in control as Tig looked up at her like he knew she was lying.

"What do I do?" He asked, sounding annoyed, but really it was because he was curious. Yeah, he usually did say shit that appealed to the sick senses of humor around him, but Joss wasn't talking about anything he'd said alone.

She was laughing a little more now. "Like the morning you decided for some reason to blow dry your hair?" Joss started laughing again, but thankfully, she didn't elaborate…that had been one fucking bad idea that had ended with an afro! "And then the time you tripped over a stick in the backyard, got mad, grabbed it off the ground, looked at it and yelled, 'Motherfucker, you're going back where you came from!' and then threw it up in the tree?" And she was gone again, laughing hysterically, bending her face down to his good shoulder, unable to stop laughing…but Tig was laughing with her. Again she took a deep breath and raised her head, her laughter in check, but her smile unchallenged. "It's just you, Tig, and the stuff you do," she said, then kissed his temple. "God, I love you!" Joss sighed, and again pulled her arms tight around him. "And that's one of the reasons."

And there were the words…but without even knowing what he'd been feeling inside, or maybe somehow she did know, she'd waited to say them, had them both laughing about stuff first, distracting all the mushy shit in his head that wanted to tear up and just ball if she said she loved him. But she was perfect, so perfect…she really was his guardian angel.

Tig smiled, leaning back against her even more, her fingers doing that circle thing on his chest still. She thought he was funny, but not the way everyone else did. He smiled a little more, turned his head to the side and nuzzled his way in until he was able to kiss her neck. She loved him too, but he'd known that for awhile…wasn't any less amazing to think about it though. Her love had to be some kind of record; no other woman could have ever loved any other man as much as his Joss loved him. She wouldn't let him die. She'd been willing to kill for him. Shit, why he couldn't he think of anything to say to her? "Joss," he said, feeling that a length of her shiny, black hair had fallen over his shoulder, and grabbing it with his snake-bitten hand, winding the silkiness of it around his finger, his thumb playing with the red end of it. This really wasn't bad…laying with her like this, feeling her heart beating against his back and her arms around him, holding him together in a way he'd never imagined would work so well, but she hadn't just held him together, she'd also held him out of the reach of death…okay, so he hadn't been dying after all, but still, that's what had been what made Joss wrap him up in her arms to begin with, her refusal to lose him. Yeah, she loved him. He really should say something…but what? Tell her about the horse? No, he had that surprise planned out for tomorrow, and he couldn't tell her about the patch, he wanted to have one to show her when he told her…so what was there to say? "Joss," he began again…aw, what the hell, why not just open his mouth and see what came out? Maybe she'd think it was funny? "I really wanna fuck you."

Chapter 50; Part 2

Joss knew it couldn't have been possible, well, maybe it was a little bit possible in that perhaps the angle was a little different now, but she could have sworn that Tig felt bigger, and harder, inside of her when he let her wrap her arms around him. It had to be some psychological female thing, so satisfied to be able to wrap every part of herself around her man as he fucked her that everything just felt so much deeper and more intimate, despite the fact that he was anything but gentle, or slow, or refined the way love scenes were always portrayed in movies. That was not Tig, but this hard, thrashing, 'give it to me now,' kind of wild pounding most definitely was! But who needed long, languid kisses and slow thrusts with too much time between them when she had a guy so into her, and into fucking her, that he couldn't be controlled? But, he could be held!

She wished she could somehow see her hands on his back, what part of the reaper that covered it she'd have been leaving the half moons of her fingernails in, had she still had long nails. Tig had let her have free roam of his body, and that included being able to lock her arms around his neck when things would slow down just long enough for them to catch their breath, and kiss a little. But it was generally short lived; as soon as she'd feel Tig begin to suck at her tongue, she knew he'd revved up again, driven on by the taste of her mouth, becoming aggressive in the kiss as he began to thrust a little faster, a little harder, a little deeper, until Joss was completely at his mercy, her legs, and her arms wrapped around him as she let him do whatever he wanted to do to her. The more he felt her arms around him, the rougher he seemed to get, and Joss was loving it, feeding on it, her body so used and so tired that she couldn't even think about how to position herself beneath him in order to make it possible to cum; she just lay back, holding him, driving him crazy, and letting him beat more orgasms out of her than she'd ever had before.

It was becoming difficult to tell how close Tig was getting to cumming, and Joss wasn't even sure how many times he had…the first time being obvious and nearly immediate, slamming his big dick as deeply as it would go on the first thrust, and before she knew it he was grinding against her desperately and growling, her sheath filled with a copious stream of fluid heat that had by now been rammed out onto her inner thighs by his deep, hard thrusts, and even more cum. Tig hadn't stopped though, never seemed to tire, just kept at it, sometimes taking it down a notch, but always it went right back to the hungry tempo of a sailor coming ashore after months at sea, and Joss's arms held him tightly through it all.

Until now that was, Tig stopping, completely out of breath, shrugging her arms off of him and withdrawing his still hard cock from her, Joss's entire groin feeling like it might collapse without its stiffness to shape around, her sheath throbbing in time to how he'd been fucking her, all that his swelling balls had emptied into her slowly overflowing her now. He should have been tired, maybe he was? But she knew that Tig could be…hyperactive, if he wasn't getting regular…exercise. It's a good thing she loved him this way, because all she could do was lay back and let him burn himself out…and maybe he was getting close to that?

He rested on his knees a moment, his body shining with sweat, the setting sun catching just enough of the sheen to actually accentuate some of the muscle and power beneath the dark curls on his chest, highlighting the definition in his arms that Joss had always been able to feel, but never really see. His shoulder was still bandaged, so was his forearm, scratches healing nicely on his face and neck…and a harmless snakebite slightly swelling on his hand…but he couldn't have been more gorgeous! Joss was tired, her body feeling all the effects of Tig's physical needs, her hips ached a bit from her legs having been apart to so long and the area just below her slit was sore from the way Tig's pelvis continuous shoved against it with his endless and desperate thrusts. But she still wanted him, would take whatever he still had…and he still had something. His cock curved up tautly, shining with wetness, like a finely carved piece of marble; the head swelled nearly the size of a plum, and was almost the same color, the rest of it rock hard; he had to be close, and Joss should have been in so much pain if that long, fat, unyielding piece of wood was what he'd been battering her with. He was wearing out, at least, his body was, he was completely out of breath, muscles taxed, but his cock demanded more. He finally sat back on the bed, drew a deep breath and opened his eyes, Joss about to sit up and find a way to bring him the rest of the way through that he'd be able to just lay back and enjoy.

"Am I hurting you?" He asked, still out of breath despite his efforts to catch it again.

Joss shook her head and smiled up at him sweetly, Tig reaching out and taking both of her hands, pulling her up and closer to him, until she straddled him. She knew his plight, had seen him like this before, and understood. A lot had happened…and not just today. His mind and his body and his emotions were all trying to seek each other out and walk in step with the other, but nothing in Tig's mind ever ran smoothly, and now, combined with his desire, it was all turning him into a twisted mess that couldn't achieve the kind of satisfaction it required…because what it would take was more inside of him than outside of him. She just needed to help him find it. Joss wrapped her arms around his neck as Tig pulled her close, she understood, and she'd do anything for him. "Do you need to?"

He shook his head. "No," and his hand grazed her cheek a moment, his clouded blue eyes looking into hers, so full of the acceptance he felt from her. His eyes closed again, his pulse absolutely thrumming in the veins in his neck and arms, cock throbbing against Joss's sweaty belly. Tig leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers, eye still closed, breathing still ragged. "I just need you to take care of me, baby…"

Joss kissed him lightly, but slowly, her hands moving sensually over every muscle she could feel in his strong back. "How?" she asked with an eager, sultry tone to her voice, wanting to hear him tell her, wanting to feel him laying back and pressing her head downwards to his big, hard cock. But, Tig's hands were climbing up her thighs and grasping her hips instead. "What do you need me to do?" She asked, really curious now, but wanting him so much, feeling a hitch of sudden excitement deep inside her that was begging for his cock all over again.

And then she had it, Tig bringing her more into his lap, holding his undeniable erection in one hand as he pushed it into her and pulled her onto it. He shook and he groaned as they sank into one another again, sounding like it was the first time he'd been inside her for months, even though it had been only a few seconds. Joss's body was shaking with his now, welcoming this reunion with spastic joy, already beginning to move above him, to ride him so hard he'd never forget how much she wanted him. Tig's arms went around her as well, pulling their bodies closer than they had been, closer than they usually were when they fucked, her breasts flat against his strong, broad chest. He kissed her, his tongue and lips moving slowly, twisting and touching with a gentleness that was so out of place with what his heaving, pulsating cock demanded as it nestled deep inside her. "Cum," Tig whispered to her, looking up again, holding her by the chin, making her not so much as listen as look at him, his eyes conveying how much he wished he knew how to express what she was to him, what he wanted to be for her; how much he wanted to share with her. But too many thoughts, words and yearnings, were colliding within him, and Joss could feel them all. He'd put his feelings into the only words he could. "Just, cum."


	51. Forging Friendship

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 51

"What the hell happened to you, now?" If Tig had to explain this one more time he was going to punch someone out, and despite how most of the tension between he and Opie was dead, or at the least, dying, Tig still would have taken the chance to knock him out. Maybe if he just ignored him…nope, Ope was still waiting for an answer, now pointing to the new gauze pad and adhesive tape on his hand as they both did the routine check of the chapel before church.

"Snake." Tig finally replied, feeling like he just didn't want to use a bunch of words to talk to Opie…somehow, that was like not talking to him…but, why wasn't he talking to him? Everything that had crossed between them was now out there, the entire club knew about it, so what dark secrets was Tig trying to keep contained? Other than that Joss had intents on killing Ope…once, not anymore…as far as he knew. But not even Joss knew Tig knew that, or what it meant to him. Fuck! This was…ironic? Nope, that wasn't the right word…what was? Was there even a word to describe a situation where two different people, who really were kinda the same person, the same person because Joss did belong to Tig after all, made an attempt to kill the very same individual, and both of them failed? Opie…Jesus fucking Christ…what was it about that guy? Shit…there were people throughout history that had somehow narrowly avoided their intended death; there was Rasputin, Hitler…and Opie Winston? What the fuck?

"You have a snake?" Opie asked next, sounding a little freaked out by the idea, and that was kind of funny, but Tig didn't laugh, just wished that Ope had been around the garage more yesterday and today so that he wouldn't have to tell this piece of shit story one more time, so he didn't have to say,"I was trying to catch a chipmunk…snake bit me…so I flung it out the garage"…Jesus fucking Christ, please, no…it made everyone laugh, and not how it had made Joss laugh; Tig wouldn't go into it again, he was tired of hearing it now himself and he'd lived it!

"No, man..." Tig's annoyance showed in his voice, and his face, brow furrowed, head cocked to the side. "In my garage," he said, slowing the words down like this was something Opie had just been too dense to figure out himself. "It came in after the fucking chipmunk that was stealing all my bolts and shit; it went behind some FXR tires and I was trying to catch the chipmunk in a jar, only it was the snake instead, and it bit me."

"Poisonous?" Opie asked; Tig shook his head. He had expected Ope to cringe or something, he'd seemed to be bothered by the idea of snakes to begin with, and honestly, Tig had hoped Opie would cringe…that would have funnier still…but no, Ope just kind of shook his head and smirked at him, but he didn't laugh. "You sure you didn't bite it first?"

Oh, hilarious! Fucking jackass! Tig looked back at Opie with a half sneer, half smile, but said nothing in reply…but actually, Opie's dig was kinda cool…snakes bit people, but Tig bit snakes…yeah…spread that rumor around! Why hadn't anyone else said that? Didn't Clay and Bobby and Happy all get him better than Ope did to begin with?

Tig was all but finished with his half of the room, finding no bugs, no mics and no evidence of pinhole cameras; next on the list was to set up the cigar box in the clubhouse and make sure that all cellphones were collected and none made it into the chapel, but he paused a moment and looked at Opie, wondering how much that "thing" was still in him, or on him, or however it was that the darkness he and Tig had in common was carried. It was an eerie kinship to have, and with the most surprising of his brothers, too…but maybe because of it, Ope was beginning to get him a little more than Clay, Bobby and Happy?

"So, how's Joss?" And there it was, the darkness that bonded Tig to Ope and Ope to Tig…maybe they couldn't always see each other through its haze, but neither one of them would ever be alone it. But, why'd Opie have to go and ask about Joss? No, that wasn't cool. They may have both known what it was to toil under the yoke of that infinite despair, but there were somethings that Tig never wanted to hear Opie speak of.

"What's it to you?" Tig retorted with a tone usually heard only seconds before two guys took their argument outside. It was difficult to let go of this, it was difficult to trust that what had passed between them had indeed passed if Opie was going to inquire about Joss. What did it mean that he did? What was he thinking about her? Was he thinking about her? Tig and Ope had never been all that close, and it was because Ope lived life so differently than the way Tig meandered through it. Ope had always been like some mirror that reflected Tig's past to him, trying and striving to make it and doing everything for a wife and two kids that had been the most important things in his life…until they just weren't anymore, until he didn't know how to make them be that anymore, because even though they'd all been right there in the house with him, Tig wasn't home…he was still in Africa, and he'd never come home.

"Hey, I'm just asking, man," Opie replied quickly as he jerked around to face Tig, but he held both his hands up, no fight intended, but Tig still pushed his shoulders out, chin up, arms out a bit, looking intimidating. "The last time I saw her she was still pretty fucked up, that's all."

Tig nodded, but didn't relax. Once again, Opie should have backed off, not mentioned Joss, she was Ope's past; and Tig was her only future. "Look," Tig began and just had the feeling that whatever he said next was going to be something he wished he hadn't. "I'm sorry for all the shit between you and me, and I thank you for helping me out and staying with Joss while I went to get patched up," Tig paused; thought it over a bit and added, "and I know what it's like to want to hear how things are and hope they're good after…shit like what happened." Again Tig paused…God damn…Opie clearly didn't understand how to respect this darkness they shared. It wasn't like Tig was able to ask him about Donna. "But Joss is my old lady, Ope. You gotta let her be my old lady; that means I worry about her, not you. Cuz if you don't, this shit between you and me ain't never gonna die; it'll just keep on keepin' on until one of us kills the other. You gettin' me?"

Chapter 51; Part 2

She probably wouldn't get him, and even if she did, Tig might be annoyed that Joss had called him for such a reason, but she had made him that promise weeks ago that she was going to try to be more expressive, and let him know how happy he made her, and he'd made her incredibly happy yesterday!

"Damn," Joss sighed as she looked at the clock on the barn wall. "They're probably already in church," she said to Lauren.

"Let me try Juice!" Lauren offered, pulling her cell from the clip on the belt of her riding breeches.

"No, it's okay, I'll just leave Tig a message." Replied Joss. "I just wanted to thank him, that's all." She smiled, and ran her fingers over the envelope that Lauren had handed her when Joss had arrived at the barn, telling her, "Tig said to give this to you when I saw you today. He gave it to Juice to give to me, so I really don't know what's up."

Neither had Joss, until she opened the envelope and found two hundred and fifty dollars in cash, and a short note from Tig, which read, "I guess you need stuff to go with him now. He's like me, crazy and looks good in black." Joss had laughed, showing it to Lauren, who also laughed, and they immediately began to plan a trip to "Charming Saddlery."

Tig, he was so full of surprises lately, the good kind, not the other kind he was capable of, and while it made Joss so happy to know and understand where that came from within her man, it also made her a little bit sad. Tig knew she'd be coming over to Lauren's today, and he could have just handed her the money this morning, but no, he'd had to make another surprise of it. Joss wasn't complaining, but there was something behind this, something Tig was obviously feeling trapped inside of, and wasn't able to express, no matter how hard he was trying. Joss was fairly certain what it was he wanted her to know, that he loved her, but it was like not being able to say it, or even think to say it, was beginning to make him feel inadequate. No, Joss couldn't have him thinking that, and hoped that there was still a chance she could catch him before 'church' began so she could tell him how wonderful he was.

Yesterday, Joss had been expecting to end up at that "couples retreat" type of hotel that was about an hour north of Charming, "La Bonne Nuit," which catered to not only adult interests and themes, but some rather edgy ones at that. Tig was still "recovering" from having gone without sex, and then having it again, and being held, and all the other shit they'd lived through, and sex now was both frequent and complicated…well, maybe not really complicated, not in a bad way, but it was certainly more…physical, cerebral and creative. And, he'd just had that look in his eye when he'd gotten home on Thursday, didn't want dinner, didn't want a beer, just wanted her on the back of his bike, and off they'd gone…only before they'd left, he'd taken a black reaper bandana and tied it over her eyes, asking at every stop sign or red light, "you still can't see, can you?" He'd wanted her to be surprised, he'd said so several times, once adding, "I know I'm gettin' some tonight, baby!"

Well, yeah, he was, there was no question about that…Joss was getting as good as she gave, and she spent a majority of her day dreaming about when Tig would come home, and take off his shirt…unbuckle his belt as he bent her over the back of the couch, rub his big dick against the outer lips of her pussy and then fucking lose it when he realized that they were slick and smooth, void of all the dark, coarse hairs Joss had shaved off, wanting to surprise him. Luckily, this was one surprise that travelled anywhere Joss went…and Tig was going to love it…he could barely keep his hands off of her legs when they were fresh from the bath shaven, his fingers and palms moving up and down over the smoothness nearly all night…she could just imagine where he'd want to touch her now, or kiss her.

They'd driven for almost an hour, towards the garage to start out, but passed it, straight ahead into town, out of town, heading north, but avoiding the highway and instead following some back road that Joss, with her vision deprived, wasn't able to follow along with and get her bearings on. But, where else could Tig be taking her? If not the naughty hotel, where whips and chains were likely be the order of the night…as cheesy as they were…then it had to be some far off, secluded, creepy place that got Tig hot and also screamed 'Tig'…like some old cemetery…where else could they be heading?

The bike slowed and turned off the main road, heading up some long, bumpy gravel drive, little stones popping and flying everywhere, hitting trees and bushes, and Joss could smell hay and…livestock. Where were they? Hmm…Tig and cows…shit…no! She'd play dead for him, but she wasn't fulfilling any other little twisted fantasies he had knocking around in his crazy head, but before she knew it, they'd stopped. Tig reaching back and patting her thigh, saying, "we're here." Oh no! This could be really really ugly…in a lot of ways. Joss had tried to think of some reason they should head back to the house, but Tig checked again that she couldn't see out of her blindfold and then helped her off of the bike, by pulling her off, and then was holding onto her as they walked up a slight hill, through grass first, then gravel, but it was a very fine grade of it. He seemed really excited, like he just couldn't wait…but for what? And with what? Oh God…please no.

"Okay," he grabbed her a bit suddenly. "Stop, just stand here," he told her, then for a moment he stepped away from her but he hadn't gone very far. Her blindfold was still on…thank God…Joss really didn't want to see what he was doing, or what was coming at her, but then all of sudden, Tig had taken her hand, and it seemed like he was communicating with someone…or something…that was present…and then Joss felt a piece of cotton braided rope being pressed into her hand, Tig curling her fingers around it tightly. Okay, if he was going to tie her up, that was fine, she could handle being tied up, he often did it with his belt…but why were they on a farm? Being tied up on a farm…with Tig around…yeah, that was its very own type of horror movie that no one wanted to see! She did love Tig, she loved him through and through…but this part of him…well, she loved that too, she of course had to in order to love the rest of him, but did she really have to be introduced to it on such a scale?

Tig was behind her now, untying her blindfold, but Joss was wishing it would stay on…she didn't want to see whatever was going to happen next. "Okay," Tig was smiling in her ear as he prepared to uncover her eyes. "You don't ever ask me for very much," he said half whispering like there was someone there he was trying to conceal his words from. "You're a good girl like that, and I didn't even have to teach that to you, that's just how you are with me, and I don't know how you knew to be that way, but you are, and I…" He had to stop, took a deep breath. "Jesus Christ, Joss…there's just so much about you that makes me…" Again Tig paused, sighed this time, like he was getting frustrated with his lack of ability to articulate whatever it was he was struggling with saying. "You make me want to…I mean, I wanted to get you something, something I knew you wanted and that you'd love being around," he finally said, but it was like he'd settled for those words, the ones he truly sought being just too elusive. The tension on the blindfold lessened, but Tig held it over her eyes still, like there was some drum-roll being played for her unmasking. "So I got you this!"

In an instant the black bandana was gone, Joss's eyes fluttering and trying to adjust to the sunlight, so confused by what Tig had been trying to say, it just didn't pair up with any kind of kinky, depraved, illegal in most states, kind of barnyard fun…thank God! Finally Joss's eyes attuned and she looked up, Tig standing behind her and shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he anxiously awaited a reaction from her. But she was speechless, absolutely too blown away to find words…the rope he'd tucked into her hand was a black lead shank, and it was attached to a black nylon halter, that was attached to a tall, lean, dapple gray Thoroughbred! Despite all the shit Joss had lived through, never once had she actually felt like her eyes were about to pop out of her head, but she did then, taking in every detail of the horse in about two seconds, his beautiful silver coat with the quarter sized white dapples over it, his dark legs and black mane and tail, about the same shade as her own hair, but no red, of course. His alert brown eyes stared at her, and Tig; he tossed his head and snorted, unsure about where he was and who he was with, but his ears flattened back against his head for a moment and he pawed at the ground, letting everyone know he wasn't afraid to kick some ass if need be.

Oh God! Joss had a death grip on that lead shank, but turned sharply to Tig, wanting so badly to believe what this looked like, but it was too good to be true, and if it wasn't she didn't want to let a feeling of this much happiness rise up, only to be trampled down. Tig had just laughed though, nodded his head, stepping back from her and giving her a little push forward, towards her horse as Lauren came into focus finally. Lauren! They were at her place, and it was only about fifteen minutes from the house, but Tig had made up a 'long way' to get here to further throw Joss off! Aww! He'd really put some effort into this! She'd have run back to him and kissed him if it wasn't for this horse…her horse, being a bit skittish of sudden movements. "Careful," Tig had warned her as Joss finally began to smile, and shake with how happy he'd made her, and how touched she was, taking slow steps up to the big gray steed. "He's like me, baby. Just go slow with him, don't judge him, tell him 'it's okay,' and he'll come around too."

A tear came to Joss's eye then, and she turned back to look at Tig a moment, but then walked slowly up to her horse, standing to his side as the animal eyed her, paying attention to everyone of her movements, and ready to strike back at any moment if she dared to push him into something he didn't want. "Easy," she said softly to him, pulling his head around so he could see her even better, and not chasing after him as he took a side step away from her. "It's okay," she said gently, and then smiled when she'd realized that was just what Tig had told her to say to him. "No one's going to hurt you," she promised, looking up at his noble face, his nostrils still flaring as he looked down at her, wanting to raise his head up higher, but Joss held him firmly by the lead shank without yanking on him. "It's okay," she said again, watching him finally square up all of his black legs beneath him, and finally she stepped towards him, laying her hand gingerly on his neck, his ears flicking towards her, and he snorted again, watching her like a hawk, but this time, he stood still as she patted him. Yeah, he was exactly like Tig! Joss laughed a bit, hadn't felt this much joy since…well, since Tig had given her the patch she wore now. She truly did have a good man…a great man…though no one outside of what they were was likely to believe that, or understand how. Fine, fuck them, only she and Tig needed to know that. She looked back at Tig again, still stroking the big Thoroughbred's neck as the gray lowered his head some more, relaxing and sniffing at the crushed gravel in the arena now. "I can't believe you did this!" She said to Tig, a tear in her eye that she tried to quickly get rid of.

Tig's smile wasn't that perceptive, but Joss could see it, and she also knew why it was so slight; it was a dam, if he smiled, far too much was liable to burst out of him, and that wasn't his style. No problem, she just smiled bigger for him. "I had help." Tig said, and gestured to Lauren who walked around to the other side of the horse with Joss.

Lauren smiled, but sort of shook her head. "You've got your work cut out for you!" She laughed as she glanced at the horse. "He's probably just coming down off the steroids they were pushing into him at the track, and he's just a Thoroughbred to begin with," she laughed again, patting the horse's shoulder herself. "But he's a hot wire! The first time I put him in a stall, he jumped out, and if you turn your back on him, he'll bite you in the ass!" She smiled, then rubbed her backside a bit and sighed. "Trust me!" She laughed, and so did Joss. "Tig and I worked it out, you can keep him here, and for right now, he'll have that paddock over there all to himself…he's not very…socially appropriate right now…already bit a big chunk out of Markus's mane." Lauren laughed again, and this time Joss heard Tig laughing too. "But I don't think he's a mean horse, I think he just needs some guidance in figuring out that it's okay here, and that you're going to love him."

Joss laughed, and stole another glance at Tig. "I think I can handle that." She laughed, and looked down at her horse, who was leisurely nibbling at bits of weeds that grew spottily through the crushed gravel. He was so handsome, his eyes so expressive, ears with a slight inward curve to them, like little devil's horns. "I just can't believe this!" She said again, looking from Lauren to Tig, feeling kind of stupid now with this big ol' goober smile on her face that she couldn't get rid of. "Thank you! You don't how much, and I don't know how to tell you how much!"

Tig nodded, sliding his sunglasses over his eyes again. "So whatja namin' him?"

Joss smiled, looked at her horse again, who raised his head and turned it towards her, looking at her as he chewed some little bits of grass that stuck out of his mouth like unruly spaghetti, but he was the most gorgeous horse she'd ever seen! Did Tig know what it was he'd given her? Did he understand how much of herself he'd just handed back to her? Did he know what kind of existence he'd just allowed her? Joss looked at Tig again and smiled a different smile, one only for him, staring directly into his eyes, even through the dark lenses that hid the misty emotions in them. Her smile broadened. "Sam."


	52. Ten Patch

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 52

"And lastly, concerning our dearly departed favorite ATF agent," Clay said, about to bring the discussion to a close, and Tig felt his heart begin to beat faster, feeling so excited, like a kid in class who had brought the neatest 'show and tell.' But he was quiet, sitting to Clay's left with his usual half bored expression, making everyone who looked at him wonder about whether or not he was even paying attention to anything being discussed. He had been of course; he always did, generally knew more about what the club did and would do than anyone else except for Clay. But that was his secret, Tig liked it that way. But now…he couldn't wait to start talking, and when Clay had reached down and grabbed the paper bag from the uniform supply store in town that had been able to put together a few patches, Tig had to fight even harder not to smile. Clay looked at everyone across the table, but skipped Tig. "We all know what happened, and we all know who," he said. "And we all understand why it will never be spoken of again, ever! We protect our own, we all know that, and in this case, it means shutting up, even though we wouldn't be here without that little windfall."

There were a lot of nodding heads and "yeahs" around Tig, who glanced up, dying to see Jax's face, but Jax was looking down at the table top, kind of pursing his lips…he probably disapproved of what happened…the pussy…and he probably thought Joss needed to be kept in a cage now, too…asshole. Tig felt himself beginning to glare, and quickly turned his head, catching Opie's eye instead, who looked back at him and gave him a nod, like some kind of "congrats on your old lady saving our ass" type of acknowledgement…but why couldn't he let it rest? Tig nodded back to him though; one thing he always would respect in someone was loyalty, and though he wasn't exactly at home with Ope having some kind of loyalty to Joss now because of the whole Stahl thing, it was something he'd have to learn to accept…for now. But, Tig owned Joss, she was his property…any loyalty Ope had to her was actually loyalty to Tig himself…holy shit…that was fucking ironic! Yeah…that was definitely irony this time!

"However," Clay had begun speaking again, digging into the paper bag now. "Even though what Joss did for us 'goes without speaking,' it has been the catalyst of a brand new patch that SAMCRO will officially recognize beginning now." Clay drew his hand out of the bag and put a handful of the two inch, diamond shaped embroideries on the table, beginning to deal them out to everyone there. "From now on, each one of us who either has, or will, remove an established threat to this club, will be awarded one of these." Clay held the item up. "Take down a known enemy; you get a Ten Patch, kinda like notches on a gun belt." He chuckled then turned to his left. "Tig, she's yours, you wanna explain the significance of what this is?" Clay asked, again holding up the patch.

Don't smile…be cool…be aloof…but it was so difficult to sit there and maintain that. But Tig sighed as if having to speak only distracted him away from some thought he was having that was way better than this. "The number ten is for the tenth letter of the alphabet, it's in bold black for her hair, the green border is for her eyes, the white background is for her skin, and the diamond shape…" he paused a moment, lost in thoughts of Joss and wishing she could be here to see this for herself. "The diamond is because…she's just as precious to me."

Shit! Had he really said that? Fuck! Tig's eyes quickly darted around the table, looking for any sign of anyone beginning to laugh, or grin or do anything that meant they perceived any kind of ridiculousness in him, or any weakness, but no one did so much as quickly look away from him like they had something to hide. Everyone was holding their Ten Patch, nodding their heads again, Chibs turning towards him a bit, "very fitting, brother," he said to Tig, and a chorus of affirmatives followed, even Jax had been part of it, surprising and disappointing Tig, until he saw Jax quickly take his Ten Patch and stuff it into his jeans pocket, like he was already tired of seeing it, tired of being reminded of what doctor bitch would never win him. Tig couldn't help but smirk a little, but looked away from Jax again, once more his eyes inadvertently falling on Opie, who didn't notice this time, because he was too busy contemplating the Ten Patch in his hand. Jesus Christ, it wasn't that ornate to require the amount of scrutiny Opie was giving it…what the fuck? But Opie kept staring at it, and then rubbed his thumb over it, loyally.

Chapter 52; Part 2

Oh damn! Joss knew she'd gotten home too late…but Sam required a lot of time and patience; the simplest of things were such difficult tasks by contrast. Today Joss had spent most of the time just leading him back and forth from his paddock to the barn and back again, doing it again and again until he realized that Joss was the only one between them that got to walk on her feet. It was something that needed firm, but gentle undoing; not the kind of thing that Joss could start with him and then quit half way through, he had to know she meant what she told him and she couldn't give up until he complied…but God was he stubborn! She'd only planned on being at the barn for maybe an hour, but it had become two and a half hours, and then Lauren had showed up at the barn with that envelope from Tig…now here Joss was just getting out of the shower when Tig was coming through the front door to pick her up and take her back to the clubhouse for the party…and her cellphone was chirping away with a new text message, too.

"Joss!" Tig yelled, per usual whenever he came back to get her for a club party and she wasn't right there by the door. It would have made more sense to just let Joss drive herself to the party; that way Tig didn't have to double back, but he always refused, because if Joss drove herself to the clubhouse, then Tig didn't get to ride home with her on the back of his bike. There was a lot status involved on the arrival and departure when it came to parties and Joss had understood, and didn't question it any longer…but she was running late this time, and it was no one's fault but hers. Her new horse had issues, but she loved working with him!

"I'm up here," she yelled down the steps as she picked up her cellphone from the bed, but Tig's boots were on the steps before she could check who the message was from, and he soon stood in the hallway, Joss dropping the phone in order to not look like she'd been lying around texting and wasting time. Her man looked anxious to get back to the clubhouse, but he wasn't scowling at her…yet. "I'm so sorry I'm not ready!" She groaned to him as she flung open the closet door and began sliding hangers across the bar they hung from, looking for the black, ribbon lace-up corset style top she had with the sheer vampire pointed split sleeves, because Tig always liked that one, and since she was running late, it was best to pull whatever would make him happy. "I had a really hard time with Sam today, and—"

"Okay," Tig answered, as if the name "Sam" coming out of her mouth had made everything alright. "As long as you're not nervous about going tonight, because there's no reason to be," he walked over and took the black corseted top from her and nodded his head at it then her. "I get you too much horse?"

Joss started to laugh; he was certainly in a good mood. "I feel like we're talking about heroin," she smirked at him then went to her dresser to search out a pair of Harley Davidson jeans. "And no, he's just a little hard headed, in a bunch of creative ways," she explained fondly, thinking of Sam and then also the money and note she'd received from Tig, via Lauren. "Did you get the message I left you?"

"No," Tig answered, watching her move across their bedroom in only the towel as she collected clothing and now opened another drawer to find a good bra and matching panty set…but this always took a little bit of time being that all her underwear was black…thanks to Tig's demands. Oh well, it wasn't like white or any pastel colors were really Joss's thing anyway. His eyes were really on her, but Joss wasn't surprised; he still hadn't quite caught up with himself as far as sex went, and it took less than usual to get him going…and going…and going. "Did it say you were gonna be late?" He laughed a little, but the way he watched her was becoming more and more serious.

Joss looked up from her drawer of black delicates and smiled at him. "Listen to it," she told him, knowing that once he did, they'd likely be even later to the party, but that wouldn't be her fault anymore, and she watched Tig grab his phone from inside his cut and begin to flip it open. She remembered everything she'd said to him in that message, "Tig, it's me, everything's fine. I'm at the barn, and Lauren just gave me your gift, and I wanted to try to catch you before 'church' to thank you for doing that! You might be sick, twisted and crazy, but I'm lucky to have you!" She'd laughed as she'd said that and walked far enough off from Lauren that her next words weren't heard by her. Joss still felt her parting words to Tig. "Anyone can make a relationship work if they want to, but the fact that you are making this work, despite everything that you go through each minute of every hour of every day, proves something I've known since I met you; you really are just a little stronger than everyone else." Joss smiled even now as she thought it, he really was, though no one could see it, but Joss could see nothing but that. "Thank you for being in my life; I love you, too!"

Tig lowered his phone, but Joss managed to see him pressing "nine" to save that message just before he flipped the clamshell shut again. He was looking at her like he was a little startled, but a little relieved at the same time. "So you know?" He asked her, and Joss knew what he meant, and knew he wouldn't be able to immediately tolerate that the secret he'd been keeping between them was out.

She didn't smile, a smile wasn't called for; she just nodded her head. "You've been trying like hell to say something to me for the last few days," she said as she got all of her clothes together finally and stacked them on the bed to begin getting dressed, but she walked over to where Tig stood by the bed first. "But, you don't have to say it, I know what it does to you in there to even have to know it," she put her hand on his chest lightly, but she could feel the way his heart wanted to leap out of it…damn, she had hoped this wouldn't make him that nervous. "So you don't have to say anything to me, baby. We're good. I know, even without hearing the words."

Tig was looking down at her like he didn't know what to do next, saying nothing and not even attempting to, trying to let what Joss knew sink into him, and looking for that place inside himself that he could stand off from it, look at it, and see that it was good. He was getting there, Joss could watch his journey through the blue light that was taking over his eyes, his hand reaching out to her shoulder and rubbing it gently, but all of a sudden he yanked off her towel, and before Joss knew it, Tig had thrown her back onto their bed, and was quickly showing her that he wasn't about words, because he'd never been about words, he'd always been a man of actions.

Chapter 52; Part 3

Well it was dark now…how long had they been here? All of his brothers were inside, or around the entrance to the clubhouse at one of the fires that burned in a five gallon drum, but Tig and Joss still sat on his bike, him turned around backwards on it, facing her, his arms around her, holding her so closely as they kissed and kissed and kissed that Joss's thighs now lay overtop of Tig's, letting him have all the responsibility of making sure they weren't about to tip the bike. She was leaning into him; of course she had to, because his hands had slid down her back, over her patch, and were now inside the back pockets of her jeans, his eyes closed as he pressed himself against the feel of her body and the kisses she was dragging along his neck. But Joss was good, not doing anything he didn't ask for, not until he did ask for it, Tig's hands covering both of hers that had remained flat against his chest, moving around under his cut over the long sleeved black t-shirt he wore, and he slowly pushed her hands up and around neck. "It's cool," he whispered to her, looking up at her briefly. "Do it," and even before her arms tightened and locked behind his head, holding him close against her incredible tits, Tig was kissing her again, his mouth fused to hers as their tongues continued making love.

Joss's hands sprawled across his shoulders, still careful of his recovering wound, but she really did like to feel him, liked to press her fingers into every groove of muscle he had and know it was there…did he really need this t-shirt on? Tig pulled away for a moment to draw a breath and actually contemplate losing the shirt so that Joss could touch him the way he knew she loved to…the way he was coming to feel so honored and revered by, because that was what Joss was doing when she smoothed her hands over his body, gracing every muscle and sinew with her admiring touch, she was worshipping him. He'd never sat out here on his bike with a girl…making out…and had any of his clothes off…not that Tig being seen at a party with a woman, but not making out with her, who had some or all of her clothes off was rare…but a little reversal like his shirt being off…added to the whole making out thing…hmm…people might talk.

That was if anyone even knew he and Joss were here, they'd arrived late and never made it into the clubhouse, Tig still so caught up in what he now knew Joss knew…they were a knowledgeable couple…and it had all created this "thing" to appear inside him that just wanted to be close to her, to be holding her tight and be inside of her, and he'd given it all of that before they left the house, a good fast, hard, quick fuck before Joss could get dressed, but it still wasn't satisfied, wanted her, wanted her body, wanted her love again. It went beyond being horny…he'd been trying to catch that up all week now, but this…hmm…it was like he just couldn't get enough of her; his hands crept up her back again, pressing over both the top and bottom rockers of her patch…he owned the girl, how much more of her could he possibly get? But he did want more, like somehow, some way, there was more of her to be had…and Tig wanted to be close to all of her, to wrap every last bit of her in his arms and squeeze until he and Joss were the same fucking thing…but what did any of that even mean? Fuck it…he just really really wanted her, and if anyone said anything 'cute' about him being in the parking lot with his shirt off and Joss wrapped around him as they sucked face, Tig was just going to smash their teeth out. His hands went to the hem of his black t-shirt, but just then, Joss looked up and kind of raised her eyebrows at what he was about to do, halting him.

"Are you sure you're okay with this? Here?" She asked, her hands still clasped at the back of his neck, her body still close to his, and she kissed down his neck softly again.

"Doesn't fucking matter," Tig replied, realizing after all that he wouldn't have been feeling particularly himself if he was the only one on this bike with an article of clothing missing, and while he had every right to order Joss to remove everything if he so wished it, there was no way in hell that anyone walking passed was going to get a free show…not of her, not his dark, sweet, perfect angel…who was making his dick throb like hell…Jesus Christ he wanted her! "I can't stop." He admitted to her and kissed her again, both his arms wrapping around her and squeezing tightly, wondering if they'd ever make it to the actual party tonight. But who cared? Joss knew how he felt, without him having to say so, and God damn him for it, but he wanted to be alone with her, and feel what they both felt without anyone knowing it was there. "Joss," he half sighed, and kissed her mouth again, but not too deeply, really meaning to speak, but he just had to keep kissing her, couldn't stop; not even long enough to ask her this. "How the fuck do you figure me out?" He asked; eyes closed her mouth over his now, but keeping it brief. "How?" Shit, Tig couldn't figure himself out half as well as Joss did.

He felt her start to smile amidst the next kiss they shared, and she pulled away a short distance, her lips still brushing his as she answered. "I guess it helps that I'm crazy too." She smiled, then surrendered to the way he kissed her again, wrapping his arms around her waist and supporting her as he leaned her back on the bike a bit to really deepen the osculation and nearly lay on top of her, holding that way for as long as he could until he had to sit them both upright again in order to keep the bike steady. Her eyes opened a moment and then she leaned forward, kissing his neck some more. "How do you figure me out?"

Tig laughed. "You're not that hard to figure out, little girl," he said, brushing his fingers through her long, silky jet tresses and pushing her back so he could look into her peridot eyes, so green against the Egyptian princess eyeliner. "Since I met you, I know that whatever it is I'm sweatin' my nuts off trying not to do, or kicking my ass for having done already, is exactly the thing you want me to do, or say or be, or whatever else." He said, shaking his head, but he smiled a little. "You know it'll always be that way, for me…but I'm thinkin' you're okay with that, huh?"

"I wouldn't have you any other way," she said, her eyes on his, Tig just staring back at how perfect she was, though this perfection couldn't be seen. Joss smiled and let one hand slip from around his neck to trace one side of his dark mustache and then both patches of nearly black beard on his chin…she was touching that more now too, but Tig knew why, and it wasn't helping to cool him down any…ever since Joss buffed her muff, he couldn't keep his hands off of it, or out of it…unless his mouth was on it…absolutely nothing impeding his tongue and lips from sinking right into her sweet, wet slit, licking her deep until he was drunk on the taste of her, but what Joss talked about the most now was how she could feel his goatee prickling mercilessly against the inner pink petals of her little flower and tickling her along the soft, velvety skin on the outside of that dulcet, sacred little bloom. Shit…maybe he should keep his shirt on, and she should lose the jeans…Tig could make this work, somehow…she just had to move back some on the bike and put her legs over his shoulders so he could bend forward and…shit…why had he bothered to bring her here tonight? All he could think about was being close to her and kissing her and hugging her and fucking her…they shoulda stayed home where there was more room for that, and no one would be looking at what was his. Why had he brought her here, instead of staying home? Oh yeah…the Ten Patch!

And all of a sudden there was chirping, followed by Joss apologizing, "I'm getting a text," she said to him, but made no move to answer it, just remained there in Tig's arms, waiting for him to stop, or continue or do whatever it was that he was going to do, all the control was his…she was so perfect.

It sparked even more desire within Tig, but he had to let it diminish…for at least a little while, he had to take her into the chapel and show her the Ten Patch, tell her what it meant, and who it represented and why. Besides, the club wanted to see her, each one of them, even Jax, had asked his permission to say their own formal "thank you" to her, and Tig had obliged. He had to present her tonight, there was no way around that, and really, Joss deserved the attention, too. But after that, he could take her back home…and see what it was going to take to burn off this sexual, sensual, love-struck humor …but he loved this 'combustible' stage. "It's okay, see who it is." He told her, letting her go. "I need a sec anyway," he half smiled and carefully adjusted himself on the bike…and elsewhere.

Joss laughed, her red lips still kiss swollen, but her lipstick un-smudged…how'd she do that? She cast a furtive glance towards him, but her eyes were down, not up, and she smiled a little more. "We can take care of that first if you want to," she offered, just before she pulled her phone out of her pocket.

"Later," Tig answered, because the dorms were likely occupied about now, and there was no end in sight to what he felt like he needed from her or with her. He slapped at his groin a little and sought a distraction, looking at Joss's phone in her hands. "So which Lauren is that?"

Joss sighed then shrugged her shoulders a little like she was trying to play innocent. "It's Tara, actually." She tried to sound like she wasn't surprised, but Tig knew she was. "She's sent me two texts tonight, the first one came in before we left the house, but I…was busy." She smiled at him, like she hoped Tig would think about that and not about who she'd said was texting her.

"Tara?" Tig groaned and whined all at the same time…well, he had been seeking something to be ice water to his dick, and now he had it. Joss nodded, sliding her phone open to reply. "Let me see," Tig immediately said, but he wasn't really asking her, just reached over and grabbed the phone out of her hands. Joss sighed her disapproval at him, but didn't challenge him, watching as Tig began to move his fingers and thumbs over the keyboard for a very short amount of time then hit "send."

"Okay, so what did you just do that I'm going to have to fix later?" She asked him as he handed her phone back, trying to sound like she wasn't worried, or upset that he'd done that, but she kinda was, Tig could hear it in her voice and see it in her sharp, green eyes.

"Told her to 'go away,'" he said unabashedly. "And you're not fixing it!"

"Tig," Joss sighed again and looked like she really wanted to flip open her phone and start fixing it now, but she didn't. "Okay, so we had a fight, but she's still my friend. And she wouldn't be texting me if she wasn't sorry."

"What the fuck, Joss?" Tig suddenly exploded; he just couldn't believe this. "Baby, she sold you out! How do you think I found out about Opie? It was because your rat girlfriend came over and pissed in my ear," Joss listened, looked a little surprised, but not near as angry as he'd hoped she'd look. "She's not your 'friend,' and I don't want you talking to her anymore!" Joss started to shake her head in protest, wanting to speak, but Tig was quick to both grab her under the chin and lift her head up, while pointing his other finger at her. "No!" he told her sternly. "I didn't protect you from shit like her enough before, but I'll be damned before I let it happen again!" He promised. "Let that worthless cunt rot!"

Joss's shoulders stooped and she was looking downwards, even though Tig held her chin. Shit, why'd it always seem to flash this way? Go from being all kissing and touching and feeling to yelling at her and making her look at him like she was now. Fuck! "Joss," he sighed. "I'm not repealing that, I'm sorry," he said first, making her look at him again. "But you know how I feel about you now, and that's why I'm doing it, baby," he paused and then kissed her mouth, not surprised when she didn't kiss him back actively, at least, not at first. He stroked her hair, tried to look sorry, but he really wasn't, and he had a feeling that showed through. "You don't have to agree with me, little girl, but just tell me you understand."

Joss sighed, rolled her eyes at him, but ultimately, she was able to give him some semblance of a smile, and both her hands reached forward, lying against his thighs. "Yes," she said, and nodded her head.


	53. Unbreakable Hold

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 53

"Hey! Where have you been?" Happy's Lauren rushed towards Joss where she still was on Tig's arm, and very much contented to stay there, the feeling to not be separated from each other tonight seemed mutual, but it was sort of the norm, and so Tig looked down at Joss, then Lauren, and just smiled, leaning over to give Joss a quick kiss, then pinched at one of Lauren's dark curly ringlet locks and pulled it away from her head, watching it snap back into place again and kind of laughed.

"Hey, Slinky-Slinky-bit—" Tig had begun to say, suddenly cutting himself off, shook his head and started over, "I mean, good to see ya, Slink-Slink." And he walked away, over towards Clay, Happy and Bobby.

Joss couldn't help but start laughing as Lauren looked at her kind of confused, her eyes half watching Tig, but then finally landing on Joss again as Lauren took a sip of the beer in her hand. "Was he going to call me 'Slinky-Slinky-bitch?'" Lauren asked, giving her curls a shake, and then laughing.

"Yeah, I'm afraid so," Joss laughed as well, and stole a glance at Tig again, who to her surprise, was doing the same thing to her. Wow, something was really going on between her and her man…he was only a few feet away, but she missed him, and he obviously felt the same. What had started on the bike had ended far too soon, but then, not even Joss was certain where that had even been headed…yeah, sure, sex, but there was going to be something more to it than just that, she could tell…but what? But, it would have to wait…and it wasn't going anywhere, Joss was sure of that. She looked back at Lauren, shrugging her shoulders, but knowing she was going to have to explain this to Lauren for Tig…even though Tig had never discussed "Slinky-Slinky-bitch" with her…but he didn't need to. This was yet another time when Joss not only spoke "Tig," but could decipher its meaning also. "Okay, brace yourself, because this will be a long story that finally makes sense in the end," she began, making sure she had Lauren's attention, because she wasn't going to get into this twice. "You know what a Slinky is, right? The metal or plastic coiled spring toy that walks down steps and shit?" Lauren nodded. "Well, Tig looks at you, at your hair, and he doesn't see ringlets, he sees Slinkies." Joss explained, but then she and Lauren both started to laugh. "And the jingle for the Slinky was, 'It's Slinky, it's Slinky, for fun it's a wonderful toy…'" Joss explained further, knowing she was right about this without even having to verify it with Tig. "And because the name is twice in the jingle, Tig's got it twice in your 'name,' and the rated 'G' version of the name he calls you inside his head is therefore, 'Slink-Slink.'" Joss laughed.

Lauren nodded. "So, does that mean he likes me?"

"Oh yeah," Joss nodded back, thinking of Tara's text that Tig had answered for her…and then he'd even deleted Tara's number from her contacts…ha!…like Joss didn't remember Tara's number! Tig knew that of course, he was just trying to drive home the point that he didn't want Joss speaking to Tara. "Tig likes you, don't worry, you're definitely in."

"That's good!" Lauren sighed. "I know he and Happy are pretty tight, so I want to be in good with Tig, but it's so hard to tell with him. Sometimes he's a little—"

"Yeah, it can be hard to tell, "Joss smiled faintly, looking over at her man again, who once more looked longingly back. She knew Lauren wasn't done speaking, but she wasn't about to stand here and let anyone talk about her man like he was some socially retarded maniac, no matter that it may not have been their intention. "That is, when you don't know him." She smiled then looked back at Lauren again. Why couldn't Tara have been more like her? Why couldn't Tara have been more like Juice's Lauren? How did Joss help her to be as relaxed and confident about herself as either of the Laurens were around the club? "You haven't seen Tara tonight, have you?"

"Tara…" Lauren repeated, tapping her finger to her lips. "She's Jax's old lady, right?"

Joss nodded, and scanned the room, hoping Tara was there…yeah, she knew that Tig had said he didn't want her talking to her anymore…but still, if Tara was here, that meant something! "She sent me a text earlier, I was just wondering if she showed up."

"Nope, I haven't seen her." Answered Lauren, "but everyone has been looking for you! Seems like you're pretty popular tonight, so whatja do to be so in demand?"

Wow, Tig had mentioned that the guys had really wanted to see her tonight, that they all had something to say to her, but Joss hadn't figured that meant there was some buzz about her at the party. "I don't know," she said to Lauren, because she obviously couldn't explain it. "Tig got me a horse, maybe that's it?"

"No way!" Lauren gasped. "You have a horse now?"

Joss smiled proudly. "Yeah, Tig surprised me with him on Thursday. We're boarding him at Lauren's farm."

"That bitch!" Lauren sighed. "I talked to her tonight for about an hour, before Juice whisked her away to one of the dorms, and she never said one word about that to me!" She laughed. "Why is this horse such a secret from me?" She laughed again.

"Well," Joss sighed, and patted Lauren's shoulder. "You do know your code name, at least, now, Slink-Slink!" She laughed then added. "And since you know the connection to the toy now, if you are ever walking down steps with my man, you might want to watch it!" Joss laughed again, harder this time.

Lauren burst out laughing too, nearly choking on her beer. "Good information!" She said to Joss, tilting her bottle towards her. "So really, what's up with you tonight? There were reports of you being mauled in the parking lot by some big, mean beast." She smirked.

Joss for some reason felt herself blush a bit. "Oh, Tig and I were just talking about stuff," she said, knowing Tig may not want everyone to be discussing that they'd seen him necking with her like crazy on his bike. "That's all."

But Lauren's smirk grew more devilish. "Yeah," she said as though she believed Joss, took another drink from her bottle and then pointed it towards Joss one more time. "I can see all the words you two were saying all over you neck and chest!" She laughed, prompting Joss to look down and notice the myriad of little hickies Tig had left on her skin from a combination of his lips, teeth and facial hair. Shit! So much for keeping the parking lot interlude private!

"I don't know," Joss looked for a way out of this, but there really was none, and she couldn't help her smile, which was only giving away more. "He and I just…" what? What did she say next that wouldn't make this into a 'thing' that everyone would be talking about, because if it got back to Tig, he was going to be pissed. "He's just, 'hot-blooded,' is all," she smiled at Lauren. "And it's working for both of us right now." She added, and raised her eyebrows a little, Lauren starting to laugh, but Joss heard her name being called and looked away.

"Joss," It was Tig, and he was pointing towards the chapel. "C'mon." The chapel? He was directing her towards the chapel? Was she supposed to be in there? She never had been before. But Joss excused herself from Lauren and began to try to follow Tig.

It was easier than she'd assume it would be to get through the crowd, everyone seeming like they just smiled and got out of her way when they noticed who she was, and she didn't even know half of them, but they knew her…or by now, knew of her. Eventually though, she'd joined Tig at the chapel door, which was locked, and the lights were off in there, but Tig had a key she'd noticed Clay giving to him earlier, and Tig opened the door and pulled her into the dark room with him, grabbing her against him before the door even shut all the way behind them, but making sure it did with his boot. He wrapped his strong arms tightly around Joss's body and kissed her again, leaning her back against the large redwood table, his mouth encompassing hers as once again their tongues touched and flicked and spiked the need for something even deeper than their kiss. Joss's hands smoothed their way over the front of Tig's cut, one hand lingering on the patch that read "Sergeant at Arms," but eventually her hands found one another between his shoulder blades, but he was quick to stop her this time, but not as abruptly as he used to in the past.

"No," he told her, capturing her hands and bringing them back down to press flat against his chest instead. "Don't, not right now," he said already so out of breath, and began to kiss her again, not deterred in any way. "I want you too fucking much right now; you do that and I either have to fuck you on that table, which can't happen," he explained between kisses, "or suffer the agony of blue balls…which I'm also not doing." He said, and kissed her deeply again, the way his arms held her more than making up for what he wouldn't let Joss do to him.

Joss curled her fingers around the black leather of his collar, making sure her hands didn't wander, her lower lip between both of Tig's, his hands all over her, one grabbing at her ass, the other with a handful of her breast, able to feel her hard nipple through her bra and her shirt, because he was kneading it as he kissed her, making Joss wish he'd suck it into his mouth next…but not in here…not in the chapel…why had he called her back here anyway? "Tig," she gasped as his mouth left hers to kiss at her neck, but his only response was a moan and a little shiver that went through him seconds before he turned her away from the table and sort of leaned against her until they both crashed against the wall behind them, Joss's legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. Tig moved even closer against her, kissing her mouth again with both his hands behind her head, pulling her deeper and deeper into the osculation, but then took his mouth away from hers unexpectedly to rub his prickly, black goatee against her lip, then dove back into their kiss once more. Joss moaned this time, and squeezed her legs around his waist; Tig's body thrusting into hers, even though there were far too many clothes between them to gain any real satisfaction from it…plus, this was the chapel…they had to stop. "Tig," Joss said again, though all she could feel was how deep his big cock would be inside her right now if there was no fabric in the way, and she wanted it, she wanted it so badly…but no, not here. It was like he didn't hear her, just kept kissing her neck, her chest, pulling her closer and closer, their bodies locked together in a beautiful passionate struggle…that needed to end…unfortunately. "Tig," Joss tried again, managed to say it louder this time, but got zero response still, her man was…lost to this. Well, whenever he wanted her attention and wasn't getting it, Tig changed her name, why not try that? "Alex!"

And that did it! Tig stopped kissing her, but stayed close to her, raising his head, breathing still ragged, but looked down at her with a furrowed brow, "What the hell you calling me that for?"

Joss started to laugh, she'd never called him by his first name before and it was like she'd said something insulting, only Tig wasn't upset, just surprised, and it had been the distraction she'd needed. "I think there was maybe some other reason you wanted to see me in here?"

Tig took a deep breath and kind of looked around like he'd forgotten where they were, and the way he was going at it, maybe he had? But he remembered now. "Shit!" He half snarled, and took two steps away from her now, and shook himself like a dog getting out of a pond, making Joss laugh. "Fuck," Tig sighed, looking around at the chapel again and then looking back at her. "I don't know what's with me tonight, baby, but I know it's about you, and I know it's got me, cuz I ain't got it." He tried to complain, but he'd ended up smiling crookedly by the time he was done talking. He leaned over, from a distance this time, caught her under the chin again and kissed her once more; closed mouth this time, but he just couldn't stay away. "What are you doing to me, little girl?" He asked her, like he really did expect an answer, but that in itself made Joss start to laugh, and Tig smiled again too. "C'mon, at least give me a hint so I can get control of this!"

"I don't know," Joss laughed a little more now. "But, I think it means I like you."

"Great," Tig sighed, but laughed a bit himself as he turned away and leaned on the redwood table, but looked over his shoulder at her. "You're ruining my life, you know!" He smirked at her, but Joss knew he was only half kidding. He'd never planned on this, was content to dwell in darkness alone, forever…wanted to, actually, and he'd certainly never been prepared to love anyone.

"Well," Joss sighed; Tig pulling out the chair to the left of the head of the table for her and she took a seat and laughed again. Tig, he'd always fight this, he'd never be friends with it, but he was feeling it, and was holding back a little less each time he did. "I think that's what we do when we like you."


	54. True Command

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 54

"Joss," Tig couldn't help laughing when he looked up from the Ten Patches that she'd been separating into the envelopes for him, and passing over to him so he could write names on them with a marker. This really should have been all done and over with at 'church,' but Clay had decided that it made more sense, and was more fitting, to let Joss make the awards of the Ten Patches after 'church,' it was after all, her patch. It was a club honor for both Joss, and Tig, who took Clay's chair and had put Joss in his place at the table, where he'd dumped all the new patches in front of her and began explaining everything about them to her. And now…"C'mon, baby," he laughed again as she sat there sniffling, tears still running down her cheeks as she struggled to seal the envelopes she'd just dropped three patches into, getting ready to hand it to him so that he could check it against the names on the ledger and mark who would be receiving them onto the front. "Stop crying," he told her, and rubbed her shoulder soothingly, but it really was kinda cute that she was still crying, just so touched by not only what he'd done for her concerning the Ten Patch, but what the club had done for her as well.

"I know," she answered, and fanned her face with her hand. "Everyone's going to come in here, one by one, so I can give them what they've earned over the years…and I can't do it like this," Joss answered, laughing a little herself as she desperately tried to make herself stop. "I can't help it," she said and looked up at Tig with a small smile. "I just never thought that with all the shit in my life that I've had to live through, that I'd ever be here, with this club, with this patch…and with you."

Man, how long was it going to take her to get over this? But, she was right…it was hard to imagine she'd gone from abused kid to bought, sold and traded among more clubs than Tig wanted to remember, to sitting here, at SAMCRO's redwood table, preparing to bestow patches, that were in her own honor, out to the most deserving members of the most badass MC in the world. No wonder she was crying…but yeah, she did have to knock it off. "Hey," Tig said, and pushed away from the table and wheeled his chair over closer to her, reaching out and brushing her hair behind her ear, then kissed her forehead. "Look at me," he instructed, and Joss did, Tig taking both her hands. "Get it together, baby, it's okay." He smiled at her, and how proud he was of all of this, mostly her, struck him; she was so beautiful and in her own way, every bit as fiercely protective as Tig was himself. Joss, even in her spider monkey rage, had seen her way clear to killing Stahl, who was a much bigger threat to all that encompassed what Joss felt for Tig and what he felt for her than Opie even knew how to be. She'd made the right call, and she'd kept her old man safe, held him back from death…him, and his entire club. She was so perfect! Hell yeah she deserved a patch in her honor!

She was looking at him now, just like he'd asked, just like she always did when he asked. "I love you, Tig." She murmured, but it only made her eyes tear up again.

Her words sank right into him, right into his heart, and made him shudder as they penetrated, reawakening the need to be close to her, to be kissing her, to be as much inside of that gorgeous body as he could get, and every ounce of strength Tig had within him was now straining to slip it's leash and pull tight around Joss again, holding back nothing and giving her all he that he had. No! Wrong time, wrong place! "Jesus fucking Christ, little girl…you're killing me…" he ground out and doubled over in the chair a minute, wrestling this latest burst of…whatever it was, into submission, gritting his teeth against it, every muscle taut…he had to look away from her, concentrating on the carpet in the chapel…but this 'hold' was dissipating…at least, until he really could be alone with her it was…good thing tomorrow was Saturday…there was no way he was getting out of bed with Joss for awhile! "Look," he sat up a little now, took another deep breath just to make sure he was clear of 'it' again. "You remember at the end of that movie, 'Star Wars' how the bitch with the doughnuts on her ears was handing out medals to everyone?" Tig asked, and it must have been just strange enough that Joss nodded and laughed at the same time. Huh, this must have been another one of those times when he was funny and just didn't understand why…shit…and why was it working against the control he was struggling to keep? What the flaming hell? Joss laughing at him also made him want to…be all…over her?

"Yeah," Joss answered, and laughed again, looking at him like she was thinking about touching him…no girl…don't do it…not right now…please! She smiled at him a bit, like she was really thinking about touching him now, but she didn't.

Tig took another deep breath, good! That could have been a mess…woulda felt incredible, but it really wouldn't have been a good idea here and now. "Well," what the fuck was he saying? Oh, yeah! "Star Wars!" "The bitch at the end of that movie wasn't crying when she was giving everyone their shit, so think of that, and get your game face on." He suggested, and looked back down at the ledger to see who was next, and hope they had enough Ten Patches made up. This really was kinda like "Star Wars," Joss was the princess, and Tig was…okay, Tig didn't know who he was really, but Opie, that son of a bitch, particularly when he took the black skull cap off, looked like…Chewbadooba…or whatever that big orangutan thing's name was! Hey, wait…wasn't the same guy who was doing the princess in that movie also best buds with the big orangutan? Fuck! Harrison Ford! Man…Tig didn't want to be him…if he had to have an orangutan watching his six he'd rather be Clint Eastwood in "Every Which Way But Loose." Yeah, he could see him and Opie getting along like that…What?

"Hey," the chapel door opened and Clay entered with a smile, cutting off Tig's thoughts before he could figure them out. "We about ready in here?" Clay asked looking over the small pile of envelopes containing Ten Patches in front of Tig.

"Yeah, there's only me left on the ledger, and I can wait to get mine," Tig answered and started to stand up and let Clay have his seat back at the head of the table, but Clay's hand came down firmly on Tig's good shoulder, keeping him in the chair.

"Stay where you are," he told him with an odd smile as he took a seat beside Joss. "You look good there!"

Chapter 54; Part 2

"…and so you don't worry about a thing, darling," said Bobby, sitting where Jax usually did, holding the envelope full of seven Ten Patches that Joss had presented him. Tig had been a little surprised that it was Bobby who had the most to say to Joss, all of it respectful of course, but he'd never quite seen the dynamic between the old Jew and his Joss. She was a daughter to Clay and to Gemma, that was obvious, but there was something sorta parental in the way Bobby saw her too, talked to her like he was giving her advice, well, he actually was, telling her to pay attention and think about what everyone had come into the chapel and said to her, and how many words they needed in order to express it; told her that if anything sounded rehearsed, it likely was, and that meant it wasn't genuine, and she shouldn't trust anyone who wasn't. It was spot on advice being as how when Jax had come in to collect his measly three Ten's, which spoke volumes about how much time Jax was lacking under a reaper cut, the pretty prince sat across from Joss and said, "You stepped up for us all, and we appreciate that, thanks for giving us a future." Then he'd paused, looked like he was done speaking almost, but then added, "I'm just sorry to see what it all made you into, that night."

Joss had narrowed her eyes, just a little, probably not perceptible to anyone in the chapel other than Tig, who was too busy glaring in Jax's direction with a cold, hard stare, that Clay noticed from where he sat beside Joss, and shook his head at Tig with an orderly gaze, and Tig stood down. There was a bridge between Jax and Bobby, and Tig knew they met frequently in the middle of it, and Jax must have been confiding some stuff in Bobby about Stahl's death that Bobby now conveyed to Joss, telling her to be careful. Tig looked towards Bobby after he'd finished speaking, it was such a different perspective sitting here at the head of the table, if the entire club were present, he'd have been able to see the looks on everyone's faces and in everyone's eyes any time he looked up. Loyalty was plainly read from right here. But he looked at Bobby now, "Thanks, man." He nodded at him.

"Not necessary," Bobby replied, putting his hands on the arms of Jax's chair and beginning to stand. "Okay, better get out of this chair; it puts asinine thoughts in a man's head." He laughed; Tig and Clay laughing with him then he stood and walked over to Joss. "And thank you again, honey." He took Joss's hand and pulled her to her feet. "You're a very brave girl, got the heart of a Maccabee!" Bobby smiled at her then gave her a big bear hug, which Joss reciprocated as best she could with her size verses that of Bobby's, making Tig laugh again.

"Oh, thank you, Bobby!" Joss groaned within the embrace as Bobby patted her on the back. "You really are like my Jewish uncle!" She laughed, and yeah, Tig could see that, that was cool; Joss had some very good people that were obviously loyal to her. "I'll meet you at Goldman's deli for a knish and latkes!" She laughed again as Bobby let go of her.

"That's some good eatin', you little mensch, you!" Bobby smiled, and that was about enough for Tig…he didn't know what they were saying anymore, but then Bobby straightened and looked discerningly at Tig, then Clay, his arm still around Joss's shoulders. "Hey, why aren't we showcasing this one at the Custom Bike Awards in Lodi next weekend?" Bobby asked, and to Tig's dismay, he was pointing at Joss.

Shit, now there was a look in Clay's eyes, and before he even spoke, Tig's head was already pounding. "Not a bad idea!" Nodded Clay, who looked at Tig first, then Joss, his smile broadening and the gears in his head turning; yup, this was going to happen, whether Tig liked it or not…and he didn't…but why didn't Clay just hurry up and decree it already…just get it over with. "Not a bad idea at all!"

"Clay, man…" Tig hemmed and hauled, really not on board with this. "You know what the CBA's are like, just a bunch of civilians hanging around with their chopped, Frankenstein creations that they're all hoping to impress the AMA with…we don't give a shit about that." Damn it! If Tig had his way, SAMCRO wouldn't bother with this kind of shit…he hated the American Motorcycle Association, it just promoted the growth of more and more little civilian riding clubs to spring up, all sporting three piece colors, that they never once had the decency to ask for permission to wear from the dominant outlaw clubs in their areas. Motherfuckers! No one got to wear a top and bottom rocker with a main mark in the middle unless they were also approved to, and had the balls to, add the "MC" patch and the "1%" diamond as well! "Besides, didn't that shit go 'no colors, no guns' last year?"

"Yeah," admitted Clay, but then smiled again, "and no one came!" He laughed and he gave Joss another look too, like he was thinking of some kind of…marketing ploy…well, she was…lips, tits and hips…yeah, Tig's little girl was a definite cock tease. "So they've dropped that this year." Clay finished, and looked at Tig like he expected him to do…something.

Joss stood in the center of both Bobby and Clay, looking over to Tig, clearly not sure what she was supposed to be doing here…Tig was against whatever this was, but Bobby, and Clay, were for it. Tig couldn't leave her dangling like that, it wasn't fair…and he'd really like to just get her out of it all together, but that was going to be tough at this point. "It's nothing bad, baby." He said to her, trying to choose his words carefully, not wanting to sound like he was pro-CBA's, but also not wanting to make Joss worry unnecessarily. "Clay's thinking that you sitting at our booth is going to bring in a lot of interest, and make us a lot of friends."

"Oh!" Joss smiled and looked down at Clay. "I get to be PR?" Fuck! Now she looked like she was for it!

"It would be some awesome PR! Look at her, she's a photo op! And she's good with people, former beauty queen and all. She'll have the law abiding public wrapped around her lovely finger!" Clay smiled up at Joss from where he sat. "And she's not some bubble-head who couldn't handle a few questions, either! This could work well for us!" His eyes were on Tig now, who still sat at the head of the table, beginning to feel like the question was being put to him, and that the decision was his to make, despite how obviously Clay wanted it to happen. "I know, I know," Clay looked at him with a strange sympathy, "owning a beautiful girl is sometimes a curse, but I say, use what you got. She won't be in danger, not with the civilians, or the other clubs with us all around her, and it's not illegal, so even the local authorities aren't an issue," he explained, like he was arguing this case, to Tig, who sat there by the gavel. "Could be good recruitment too, Lodi's not that far away, it would work."

"You remember what she did for business at the garage in just the five days she was working?" Reminded Bobby, but he wasn't sure where to look now, at Tig or at Clay, so he looked confusedly at both of them.

Clay's eyes remained steadily on Tig, at the head of the table, awaiting a verdict from where he sat to the left of him. "I know you hate these civilian type functions, Tig," he said, nodding his head in agreement. "But the club stands to gain a lot, and we got nothing to lose, particularly if we put Joss out there. You know that, but she's yours, and I know you love this club, so you make the call."

Tig flopped back in the chair at the head of the table and sighed, rolling his eyes. Fuck! He knew what he had to do. No, he didn't want to have to go fucking Lodi for the Custom Bike Awards, and make nice with the American Motorcycle Association…but SAMCRO would have quite a presence there…and Joss would be an awfully big draw too…she would leave a good impression of the club in the minds, and eyes, of anyone who talked to her, and maybe she'd spark enough interest in a few civilians who didn't have shit for brains, and instead of them joining up with some shithole, half assed, three piece civilian riding club, they'd become SAMCRO hangarounds, and then prospects, and then brothers who really could make this club stronger. Shit! God damn it! Was he really about to say what he was going to say? "Okay," Tig sighed, looking up at Bobby and Clay. "Joss goes to the CBA's." Jesus fucking Christ…now, so was he! "But," Tig suddenly interjected, halting the small celebrations of Bobby and Clay, and even Joss. "She has a guard with her at all times, and if it ain't someone I approve of, it'll be me, and you both know how I am with civilians!" Tig hinted, almost smirking and feeling good that he'd at least been able to find some high ground to hold in this. "So, keep that in mind!"

Clay looked over at Tig, sitting there, at the head of the table, and again he had that odd smile. "No problem," he nodded, and sounded like he was really proud of Tig, but not for siding with him as much as for how Tig had sided with the club. His eyes held's Tig's a bit longer, something…fatherly…about that look, and Tig felt his brow begin to wrinkle as he looked back at Clay…what the hell was this? But in no time it was passed, Clay sighing and moving on, "So, back to the Ten Patches, who's next?"

Tig shook off the decision he'd made and the stare Clay had given him, and looked back down at the ledger, and he cringed. God damn but he was getting tired of fighting this war…and maybe he was overreacting, given the past that he was still trying to get through, and the future he was still trying to predict, but Opie was still acting kinda…strange, like he was trying to be all friendly now, but just didn't quite get that Tig wasn't into that with him…not yet anyway…and Tig wasn't even sure how many things they had in common, but he was more than suspicious about one of them, and it left Tig uncomfortable with the idea of Opie being near Joss. "Ope."

Clay bit down on his cigar. "Hmm," he mused then looked up at Bobby. "Uncle Bobby, wanna stick around?"

"Sure," Agreed Bobby, "But Ope's not out there, man. Not sure where he got to. Maybe he left early? He does that."

Clay nodded then blew out some smoke like disaster had been avoided. "That he does," he said, and glanced down at Tig like telling him to put a gun back in his holster. "I guess that's it then," Clay smirked a little and looked at Joss. "Unless you wanna apologize to your man down there for why we don't have all the Ten's he's due." He laughed.

Joss smiled and looked at Tig. "How many do you have?" She asked, her eyes falling on the ledger, but Tig flipped it over, wanting to tell her rather than have her read it.

"Eleven," he said, but not boastfully, not pretentiously, he knew Joss's pride in him, and in being his, would be more than enough to carry him. And she was smiling now, beaming, the glow of a woman on the arm of a powerful man overtaking her. And Tig was proud, but more so of Joss; because of his old lady, he now had a way to legitimately display what he'd done for the club, and his brothers. "Comes with the stripes," he explained, and underlined the "Sergeant At Arms" tab on his cut with his finger. Hmm…sitting at the head of the table was pretty cool…and Tig had just proven that he could make decisions for the good of the club, despite his personal feelings about an issue…this was an office he knew he could hold, over here, in the chair at the head of the table, depending of course on who was on his right and his left…but no matter where he sat at this table, Tig knew he'd always have "stripes."

"Okay then," Clay got to his feet, but as he did, he looked down at Tig, who still sat at the head of the table, and there was that odd smile again, and he gave Tig a nod this time as well, then turned to everyone else in the room. "Until such time as Ope shows up, we're done." He announced then extended his hand to Bobby. "Congrats," he said, then did and said the same to Tig, finally turning to Joss and putting both his hands on her shoulders, sighing. "And thank you!" He told her. "Now you give me a hug," he smiled, and put his arms around Joss, who smiled and embraced Clay as well, laying her head against his chest, and Tig saw Clay's hand stroke over her soft, ebony hair and he rocked her in his arms again, just like he'd done exactly one week ago, only Joss had been more than out of sorts then. "You go to bed every night knowing we all love you for what you did for us," Clay told her. "Because we do! So keep doing what you're doing, kid. We'll always be behind you." Clay finished then kissed Joss's cheek.

"Saying 'thank you' sounds so chinchy after that," Joss smiled up at him, Tig recognizing the emotion in her eyes and hoping she wouldn't start crying again. "But, thank you." She laughed a bit, but then hugged Clay again and sighed. "I really love you and Gemma, Clay!"

Chapter 54; Part 3

Tig's fingers were inside of her corseted black top now, somehow having maneuvered their way in as they kissed…and kissed…and kissed, again. Oh God, did it feel ever so good to have his mouth over hers, to be tasting his tongue against her own, and feel his pinching fingers pulling at her nipple…but they were still in the chapel! The blinds were closed, the door was locked to anyone on the outside, but the only reason that Joss had remained in here with Tig was because she'd wanted to ask him about Opie. It was easy to see that Tig was still unsettled about something with him, and he'd yet to give her any instruction on whether or not she could speak to Opie or not, however, it was clear that Tig had intended for her to be presenting Opie with his Ten Patches, just like she had everyone else...so, how did that figure in? Opie may have still been around, and he'd surely be around at the bike awards next weekend; what was she supposed to do? What side of this did Tig want her on, and was there even a "side" to begin with? But just as she'd been ready to ask about Ope…wow…whatever this was, the second she and Tig were alone with each other, it just took over and rubbed them together like it was trying to make fire…and it was. But they needed to stop, this wasn't anymore correct than it was before…they were in the chapel…and Tig was sitting in Clay's chair, no less…actually, they both kind of were, because Tig's other hand moved between Joss's legs, making her gasp excitedly in their kiss, and she'd noticed that she was straddling him; she'd either crawled over, or he'd pulled her over to him…and now here they were, losing control again.

Tig's fingers really wanted into her, but the crotch of her jeans stopped them, apparently disappointing him so much that he suddenly opened his eyes and looked up at what he was doing. "Damn it…" he sighed, taking in the chapel again then looking back at Joss and replacing both his hands in more appropriate places. "I can't trust what I'm gonna do to you anymore, Joss. Or where," he sighed, as he leaned in even now to kiss her again, his lips pressing to hers like they meant to pull away at any second, but they didn't, the kiss just getting deeper and deeper, both of them gasping into the other's mouth, arms going around one another, some force continuing to pull them together, and so difficult to satiate once they were…God she loved him…and Joss now felt a new, unexpected stirring within her that she at first couldn't even believe was there.

No, this couldn't be happening…from just kissing Tig…could it? It was likely more than just the kissing, more than being up against his strong body like this…it was everything from Tig giving her Sam to Tig letting her finally put her arms around him and knowing that she knew he loved her and being okay with it; also, Joss was just so fucking proud of him for passing Clay's little test earlier too! The foundation was as much emotional as it was physical. But still, it was kissing him that had started it…and it had never felt so good to kiss him as it did tonight…but really, this was happening because of a few kisses?

Joss had to break the osculation a moment to be sure, but Tig didn't let her get away from him, crushing her body and mouth back to his, Joss's lips parted again and welcomed the intrusion of his tongue once more, and at the very first touch of it to hers, she knew what she felt was more than real, and also couldn't be denied. Oh God she wanted him…wanted his hands on her body, wanted his mouth on hers, on her neck, on her chest, wanted his hands traveling her body. She shook in his arms now, moving against him more than the chair and her clothes would really let her, which only made her shake more with her desire, frustration and need, tension building and building in her groin, her clitoris hard and tight within the silk casing of her panties and thickness of the denim, but she moved against Tig's body like nothing separated them, unable to always keep her mouth on his, she needed to breathe, and pant and try to let him know what it was he was doing to her…by only kissing her.

"You're making me—" but a sudden and involuntary inhalation of air cut off her words, but it didn't matter, Tig knew her too well, knew her body and its reactions to his accurately enough to know what she was experiencing, though he couldn't believe it himself.

"I know," he whispered on a quiet, rough, hot breath, and kissed her again, his hand returning to the crotch of her jeans, but he couldn't rub her, but he could at least give her something to rub against, and she did, without thinking…he was her everything, she'd never needed him more, never loved him more than she did in this moment. Tig's lips were on her neck again, biting kisses roughly over her white skin, the feeling of his mustache and beard tickling over each excited corpuscle winding everything inside of her tighter yet. Joss's hands gripped both of his strong shoulders and tried to wrap around him as much as she could, his strong, solid frame the only anchor against the torment inside her, she needed him, she loved him…everything within her speeding tightly out of control and heading for a crash, closer and closer and closer…she wanted him, wanted the only depth of him within her body she could have, and kissed his mouth, letting his tongue take over hers and stroke it forcefully until she heard herself trying to moan his name, and everything exploded into a kaleidoscope of colors behind her closed eyes, melting her against Tig's chest, his arms around her, in control of her, in so many ways.


	55. The Power of Love

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

_Warning:__ This chapter contains descriptions of sexual acts_

Chapter 55

Joss was unaccustomed to not being able to roll or shift in her sleep as she needed to, she'd gotten good at changing her position while staying on her side of the bed, and was always careful not to roll so that she'd end up facing Tig, these rules so much in the forefront of her mind that she even abided by them when her brain had shut off for the day. But now it was different, she couldn't move, and it had waken her up, where the answer to what impeded her from being able to stretch a bit and straighten her legs was immediately apparent. Her man; more than just against her, more than just holding her, he was clasped around her, both of them laying on their sides, facing one another, his arms around her neck and her leg up and over his hip, his leg also bent upwards beneath hers, holding hers in place. He'd silently insisted that they sleep together this way, the last round of sex finally tiring them both, but neither of them content to let go of the other, Tig not even willing to withdraw from her body, and adopting this position to allow his dwindling erection to remain nestled within her for as long as possible. She could still feel it, though it had slipped from her sheath, and perhaps Tig had noticed to, because he suddenly took an unsteady breath in his sleep and pushed against her, his arms tightening around her too.

Joss smiled, he was a man of such extremes; to think that when they'd met, he would chase her out of bed with him when he was done fucking her, and now this, his insistence to not only hold her close, but to stay inside of her all night. It wasn't the norm, and it wasn't even what most people would consider "sweet;" it was control, primal custody as visceral as Tig was, as visceral as they were together. He wouldn't lose her, she wouldn't leave him, she was his, and he was hers, and there was no other place for them, except together. Tig's loudest statements were always made in the most silent of ways, but still Joss knew there was a good chance when he did wake up, he'd likely be freaking out that they were so close, he couldn't help it, it was who and what he was.

But after all the sex tonight, Tig was likely to sleep for awhile to come…wow…it had been hard now to remember when it had all started, because really, it started before they left for the clubhouse, and seemed like it had just lasted straight on through the evening, just not always in the most physical of ways, but when they'd gotten home again…wow! Tig should have been tired! Joss had long understood that for him, sex was an important part of how he was seen, based on the quantity of it he had and was able to procure for himself, but unlike most other men, how good he was at it, or how in demand he was as a lover, was never something he was judged by, or cared about. But now, maybe Tig wasn't consciously extending himself until he knew she was satisfied, or maybe he wasn't aware of how much it influenced him when Joss made the pleasure he gave her known to him…or maybe she and him were just "good together" as the saying went, but there was so much more to sex now for both of them than there ever had been before. He now knew every place on her body that felt good, or even made her cum, and he'd even found a few that Joss herself hadn't known about. Even back when he did sort of care, he didn't put forth much effort, always made sure she got hers, but mostly, Tig knew he had a big dick, and he just let Joss find a way to make that work for her…but tonight, maybe it had been spurred on by how she'd cum just from necking with him in the chapel, but he was all about making that happen again and again and again, until Joss's body was just too tired to keep up with what his wanted to give her. And he was still so very Tig in how he gave it too, not tender, but possessive, not sharing pleasure with her but forcing her to accept it, his gentleness far from gentle, but the love Joss knew he felt for her evident in it all.

Hmm…she'd never told him he was good in bed…that was some new territory she looked forward to covering…when he woke up, of course. She smiled, couldn't wait to see his reaction to hearing that; Tig was so silly when she did give him compliments that other men expected to hear, acting at first like he didn't understand what she meant, then providing her with examples of why she was wrong, then being angry, and embarrassed that she'd even brought it up, and finally, sighing and looking at her and saying something akin to, "I hate when you notice that shit…but…thanks!"

Joss was still smiling a bit as she closed her eyes and tried to go back to sleep; it would have been nice to stretch her legs a bit, but she liked the feeling of Tig between them too much to give it up. Besides, him waking up and scrambling away from her was inevitable, she could wait until then, and lay her head back down softly against Tig's chest, where he'd been pressing it, but as soon as she did, he flinched, his eyes opening next, realizing, just as she had, that he couldn't move, that he was caught up in something, and that it was her…but that was it…he just yawned and lay there looking at her.

"You okay?" She asked him, because it was startling to not see him startled.

"Yeah," he nodded. "Are you?" He asked next, as if maybe he was missing something that he should have been concerned about.

Joss laughed a bit. "Everything's okay," she said, reassuring him, because now she could feel some tenseness in his body, his arms becoming rigid and his heart beating faster. Hmm…he may have woke up, but Tig wasn't really awake, until now.

"Alright," Tig's arms slipped from around her and he rolled as far away from her as he could get. "Yeah, I remember, this was my idea…but get offa me!"

Joss started to laugh, whereas any other woman may have been appalled by such a sudden rejection. However for Tig, it wasn't nearly as sudden as it usually was, nor was it a true rejection. She slipped her leg from around his hip and it felt so good to move her knee and other joints into some other position…finally…she loved being close to Tig, and it was hot to think that his cock had still been inside her as they'd fallen asleep, but ouch…her own hip joint felt like it had rusted in place while wrapped around him. "You still okay?" She asked, laughing again as she stretched her legs out.

"Yeah," Tig nodded and sat up a little, groaning with a stretch of his own, then rubbed at his eyes a bit and looked down at her. "I'm sorry," he said. "I tried."

Joss smiled up at him softly, he really was sweet, in his own way. "You did fine," she insisted. "You always do."

Tig nodded, but she knew they weren't going to get into that. He yawned and looked out the window behind him, and it was still pretty dark outside. "Why'd you wake up for?"

"I don't know," she answered, he didn't have to know that being tangled around him was putting kinks into her joints, she'd gladly suffer it all again if it meant being close to him like that. But, maybe this was a good time to get an answer to that question she'd tried to get an answer to before, and then had tried once again to ask in the chapel, but never got the chance to before kissing him made Joss forget everything that wasn't Tig. "I was thinking about next weekend, and it kinda got me wondering about something, that's all."

"What?" Tig asked, and he sort of sneered, wow, he must have really hated the Custom Bike Awards, but he dropped the look of irritation and reached down, pulling her pillows more under her head, making her comfortable, and curious all at the same time. "Put your legs straight," he instructed then kind of turned his back to her, but laid down, the back of his head coming to rest, where else, but over the now smooth crescent between Joss's thighs.

Tig lay back as if it wasn't an odd pillow he'd selected, but Joss was laughing…she could feel every hair on his head brushing across her soft mound, creeping into the sensitive bend of her thighs, rustling at the base of her stomach, all of them doing some kind maddening little dance against her susceptible skin, like the feet of a thousand little gnats marching along the most pleasantly intolerant of ridges on her body. "Tig!" She was laughing and squirming, and then laughing some more at how Tig ignored it. "That really tickles!" She exclaimed, and was trying so hard to hold still, but now that she'd tipped him off, Tig smirked and began to nuzzle his dark hair against her sensitive white skin until Joss bucked and laughed so much her abdominal muscles ached and there were tears in her eyes.

"Stop movin'!" He grumbled, but still smirked and finally held still himself. "Seriously, I need like another hour of sleep, and then I'm banging you again." He reached up and took her hand in his, bringing it down over his chest, moving her fingers through the dark curly hairs, watching her touch him as he did it. That was some new interest of his, not only allowing her to touch him in certain places, but to stare down at her hands and fingers on his skin as they pressed to it or moved over it. "Why are you worried about the CBA's?"

"I didn't say I was 'worried,'" Joss answered, and tried to adjust herself a little so that her hip bone wasn't directly beneath Tig's back, but it only made everything ticklish again when she moved and, besides, he didn't seem to mind anyway. "I was just wondering about what was going to happen." Joss was really good at this by now…never start directly with Tig when he didn't really want to talk about a particular thing, whatever it was she wanted to discuss, it had to gently drift into the conversation, or better yet, let him be the one nudged into introducing it!

"You wanna know what's going to happen?" Tig asked with all his annoyances plainly heard in his voice as he looked up towards her. "I'll tell you," he smiled in an irritated fashion. "First, there will be a lot cocksuckers looking and pointing at us, then taking cellphone pictures of our cuts whenever we turn around, so they can come up with something similar for their little shithole riding club, and then they'll be over like we're all brothers cuz we ride, and start asking stupid shit questions about our bikes, call them 'plain,' and start asking us about Harley's greatest mistake ever, the V-Rod, which they all fucking love, and after that, they'll be there with this big asshole smile on their faces, showing off some piece of shit 1943 BMW their grandfather brought back from Germany during the war, that they went ahead and restored, but with a Cessna engine or some shit, and there's hardly enough original parts of the fucking thing to even call it a BMW anymore, and it's such a fragile, useless piece of…sculpture, they can't even start it, let alone ride it!"

Joss tried not to laugh, but this time it had nothing to do with being tickled by Tig's hair. She understood his frustration and his abhorrence of course, and in some part, she shared it as well, but it was just his attitude and the way he talked about it that threatened to have her laughing once more. "Okay, but I was kind of meaning about—"

"And then," Tig continued, as if she wasn't talking, which that time made Joss have to cover her mouth with the hand he wasn't holding against his chest, he was just too funny when he expressed himself against something like this. "These bitches, who all think they're some bodie's old lady, will be hanging around in this…herd, looking at us and blowing kisses and shit to Jax, but still talking about how 'dirty' looking he is, and tell us shit like we should paint our bike red or blue or whatever the fuck, and one of them, inevitably the one with the fattest damn ass, will bolster up the courage to ask one of us to take her for a ride on the back…and these aren't just annoying, stupid bitches, baby, these are the ugliest bitches!" He stressed, looking up at her again. "I mean like, 'smash their faces in dough and make gorilla cookies,' ugly!" And that time Joss couldn't help it, and she started to laugh, but Tig ignored her and continued. "And there's always that one stupid cocksucker, standing around and telling us how we can improve our bikes…telling us that if we open our carb up, 'it'll make a lot more noise and have a lot more presence when we roll into town'…yeah, and it'll also blow your engine unless you're riding in high altitudes, you dumb, dickless, fuckhead!"

"Okay," Joss said and took a deep breath, having spoken more for herself, because she could feel how stiff and tense Tig was getting, one of his hands had clenched into a fist, and she knew because her fingers were trapped inside of it. She couldn't be laughing and talking him down right now. "But there must be something good about it, because Clay wants to do it."

Tig sighed and began to relax a little. "Yeah," he half heartedly admitted. "It does keep us good with the civilians…makes us look like Robin Hood to them, makes it so there'd be a lot of public backlash if ATF or the FBI ever does try to take us down big time." He said, but then she felt his hand clench again around hers. "But I hate it, Joss! And I fucking hate that no civilian gets what I am! I am one of the last truly free men in America, and they don't even have an idea of what that means or what that is, and so they need to stay the fuck away from me!"

"I know, baby, I know," Joss gently soothed, and smoothed his wild hair with her free hand. Wow, keeping Tig from punching someone's head off next weekend was going to be no easy feat. "They don't get it, you're right," she said, and it suddenly became even more clear why Tara had such a hard time finding a place within this club…she was a civilian, she'd never "patched over," as it were, she truly didn't get it. Damn it…it wasn't fair…despite that, and despite Tara having gone to Tig and running her mouth about Opie, Joss did still like her, she was the first friend Joss had ever made, and it was hard to just let go of that.

"You know what I am," Tig said next, and it surprised her, but she knew to just be quiet and let him continue, if he was going to, and say nothing about his comment if he didn't. "And I shoulda made you part of it the first time you pleaded with me to take you with me," he paused and looked up at her again. "I'm sorry, baby."

Oh Tig…Joss's heart thumped sadly in her chest, she hated it when he was mopey, and she wasn't going to let him stay that way, his ridiculous anger was preferable to this. "No, you knew what you were doing, Tig." She said, and stroked her finger over his hair and then around and behind his ear, Tig twisting his neck to actually encourage her to touch more of him. Joss smiled a bit, he was a wolf eating out of her hand. "You weren't ready, and neither was I. I would have been as out of place and awkward as Tara is," she hadn't wanted to say that, hadn't wanted to use that example, but she knew offering Tara up would do Tig some good, and it was, she could feel the change in his 'ready for war' posturing. "There were some things I had to learn, some things I had to go through before I could be what you need me to be, and some of them may have been awful and scared me more than I ever understood I could be scared, but in a way, I did it all for you, and if it means making myself better for you, I'd do it all over again if I ever have to!" Wow, that wasn't exactly what she'd thought she was going to say, but thinking about Tara and how aimless she was and how pointless and unnatural it was for her to be anywhere near this life, near this club, made Joss realize just how much SAMCRO blood now flowed through her veins, and how absolute and unqualified and potent Tig's ownership of her was. "I belong to one of the last free men in America," she said, feeling Tig's muscles start to stiffen once more against her, but in a different way now. "And I never want to know any other life than this!"

Tig sat up and was immediately leaning over her, his arms sliding between the mattress and her back, pulling her close and kissing her as he lay with all his weight against her, smothering her in such a secure and wonderful manner that made Joss further wrap her arms and legs around him, wanting more and more, loving the possession he took of her. "God damn it, Joss…" he sighed, between kisses, his heart thundering against hers as they both ran their hands the lengths of each other's forms, touching all that they could reach and kissing so deeply there was scarcely enough breath between them to speak. The seemingly endless earlier sex had slaked it a bit, but now it was back, that feeling of wanting to be with each other in however many ways they could be close. Tig trembled a bit above her, worrying her lower lip between both of his again and then kissing down her chin to her neck and across her collar bone as Joss tilted her head back and exposed every bit of her white throat to him. One of her hands sprawled over the reaper on his back, the other ran her fingers through his hair, directing his kisses back to her neck again, Tig complying, only with teeth, kissing first then biting hard enough with the desire filling them both to leave a burning mark. "There's no gettin' me away from you," he whispered then kissed her mouth again, sucking hard at her lips and her tongue, holding her tighter. "You know that, don't you?"

Joss he gasped at how he wanted to be sure she did know it, but before she could answer, Tig kissed her again, with some new urgency, like something spilling out of him and into her that he couldn't stop, his body more than just pressed to hers, but "dug" into hers though there was no penetration, just his arms, holding her so much against him she began to feel almost part of him, absorbed by him, his lips still whispering against her mouth as he kissed her, but it was impossible to make out all the words exactly, just a jumbled chant of emotions that he couldn't keep bottled up any longer, familiar words like "stay" and "come," "never" and "mine" that she'd heard before from him in little spurts that morning in the dorm, the night after he'd been the one who'd gone momentarily catatonic, but now there was at least one new word that joined their passionate flutter, "yours." Joss drew a shared breath with her man, not even taking her mouth from his as they did so, and she wrapped her arms around him even more, held him so much tighter than she ever had before, Tig groaning and finding even more strength with which to make her his in his arms. She'd thought of him as "hers" for some time now, but now Tig was thinking it too. "I love you," she somehow whispered, even as she felt his mouth over hers, imploring the touch of his tongue again, soon rewarded with that, and a deep growl from the muscle and living desire above her.

"You're making me hard again," he ground out against her lips, and bit her neck once more; arching his back, taking his weight more on his knees and Joss felt the belly of his big cock suddenly slap into the length of her hot, moist slit, growing even more and more slippery now at the touch. She moaned and angled her hips as much towards Tig as she could, feeling the contractions beginning already in her sheath, not cumming, but begging to caress every last inch of what Tig readied to slam into her. But then she was cumming, and only seconds after Tig was inside of her, giving and taking to and from one another with a volume more furious in their passion than could be imagined by most couples; no words between them, only a series of the most ancient and pure, guttural sounds born of how a woman's body was made, and how man's body responded to it, the bed shaking and the headboard striking the wall with a rhythm reflecting every deep thrust and every throb of their crazed hearts, everything that was the other racing and pulsing within them both now, so entwined that not even the eruption of climax separated them from one another.

It couldn't have lasted that long, Joss doubted she could have withstood the wickedness of its intensity for more than a few minutes, that part of it alone was exhausting, and now she and Tig both collapsed, he onto her and her against the mattress, covered in each other's sweat, the taste of one another enduring in their mouths, and their heavy breathing the only thing that made either of them continue to move. When this came on, it came on strong, and there was no other manner for it to have; "it"…why go on thinking of it in so impersonal a way? Joss knew what "it" was, in all its reckless and demanding insanity that grabbed hold of both of them and split them open and wrung them out into each other until he was her and she was him…it was their love, as ludicrous, unusual, wild and severe as she and Tig were themselves.

The sky and the earth were gradually piecing themselves back together now, and Joss could feel Tig beginning to regain some power over himself, whereas she still couldn't move, was just too exhausted, but Tig was stronger than she was, so it didn't surprise her to feel him moving off of her a bit, keeping his arms around her though, and rolling to his back, bringing her with him and letting her spread out across his still heaving chest. "Jesus Christ, I am going to be sore tomorrow," he moaned, still collecting his breath as he now arranged Joss's arm around the back of his neck, her head over his pectoral muscle and her other arm across his broad chest.

"Give me a minute," she smiled, regaining power enough to trace little designs on his sweaty skin with her fingertips. "I'll rub your back."

Tig kind of chuckled at her innocence, and it felt good to know that some remained…for Tig to tarnish. "No," he said and shook his head. "It's not my back that's going to be sore, little girl."

"Oh," Joss answered, but she was beginning to feel tired, and what he'd actually meant didn't flip over in her mind, until now. "Oh!" She was so startled…and felt kinda responsible now too. "I'm not wet enough for you, am I?" She asked, lifting her head up and looking apologetically at him.

"Joss," Tig laughed and pressed her head back down against his chest again, stroking her sweaty bangs off of her forehead. "That's not it, you didn't cause it, it's just…" he sighed, lost for the words to describe it. "Just been hittin' it a lot, and hard too," his hand continued to stroke her hair, his heart rate settling beneath her ear as did her own. "Take it as a compliment." He laughed again.

"Well I can't if I broke you," she laughed back, and nuzzled her head against his chest a little, it felt so good to do so, Tig's body was so strong and so male in all the ways Joss wanted it to be, nothing on him was weak or soft or underdeveloped. She planted a kiss on his skin, feeling the rugged muscle beneath it and she smiled. "I might need you again sometime."

"You need me, I'm there!" Tig said quickly and without any hesitation, and Joss smiled again. "Go back to sleep for now though, you're still too young and tender, not old and tough like me, you can't just keep on taking it and not rest in between." He explained, and even though she couldn't see it, Joss knew Tig was smirking at her as he'd said that.

"Uh-huh?" Questioned Joss, because it couldn't have been that Tig, for as old and tough as he was, really wanted to sleep too.

"Yeah." Tig replied, and pressed her head down to his chest a little more, but both of them started to laugh a little. It would be good to sleep again, and damn if Joss wasn't feeling a little bit of soreness now herself…Tig was right, they had been going at it a lot tonight alone, and it had been hard, and he was big…yeah, they should have both been sore. She was tired, she had been before that last interlude, but something wouldn't let her close her eyes. Opie…she had to know…what was she supposed to do? Was there a threat there, or wasn't there? She'd much prefer to hear that there were no issues, it wouldn't be easy for her if there were, but ultimately, for her man, if Opie had to go, he had to go. "Tig," she began, and was surprised when he began to speak.

"You still thinking about the CBA's?" he asked, "or you wanna tell me what's really on your mind?"

Shit, he was beginning to figure out her meandering style of talking about issues he'd rather not discuss. Oh well, that was the price of developing a bond between one another. Fine then, if he could take it, and he was basically insinuating that he could, she'd be direct. "Opie." Joss stated, and waited a moment to see what his reaction was, if he got annoyed or angry or turned off to the conversation, but instead, Tig sighed. "I'm sorry, but I need to know, Tig. A lot's happened, but you're the only one who knows what any of it means. You know I'm going to have to be around him next weekend; how do I see him? How do I treat him? What do you want me to do?"

"Joss," both of Tig's hands left her and rubbed his eyes again then he pushed himself up some on his elbows. "Look at me," he told her, and Joss sat up herself too, not having expected an answer that would have prompted this preparation. "You love me?"

"Tig," she sighed and looked up at him, one hand caressing the side of his face that still bore pinkish claw marks. "Yes, I love you," Joss answered. "But believe me, that's hardly saying enough about how I feel." And it wasn't, "love" was such an overused word…how could she compare her deepest feelings for Tig with someone's appreciation for cheeseburgers, or a particular song, or how they felt about their favorite pair of shoes?

Her fingertips gently traced his jaw line as his ice blue eyes rested on hers, like looking deep inside of her, then his head turned and he softly kissed her palm. "I know," he said, then reached over and wrapped one arm around her, pulling her close and kissing her mouth again, pulling away to speak after only a brief touch of his tongue to hers, but he only ended up kissing her again, and again, and again, deeper each time…caught up once more in what had been flowing between them all night long, and Joss wrapped her arms around him and began to helplessly give him everything he wanted. "Joss," he finally whispered, wriggling free of her arms and then pinning her hands down, trying to get control, apparently really wanting to talk to her about this, and yet, not wanting to discuss it all at the same time. "There's a lotta hell between me and Ope," Tig said. "And it ain't gonna just blow away on the wind, that shit's there for the duration," he looked down at her, wanting so badly to kiss her again, and Joss was just barely able to not to lift her head up and encourage him to…she loved him so much. But this was important, and it had been very much on Tig's mind, she could tell. "I know you love me," he said with so much conviction it surprised her. "This is not on you, so don't think it is," he continued, and his clear blue eyes were now looking down into hers with so much sincerity and something else that Joss couldn't name, but it had the edges of anger, the jaggedness of hatred the commitment of possessiveness and the strangest touch of sadness. "Opie's in love with you."


	56. Twos and Threes

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

_Warning:__ This chapter contains descriptions of sexual acts_

Chapter 56

Joss was so beautiful; she lie against his chest, sound asleep, the fingers of one hand curled around the dark hairs on his beneath his pec and the other tucked safely below his own hand. Tig was tired, couldn't have moved now if he'd had to, but he also couldn't sleep, just lay here as the sun began to rise, looking at his sweet, dark, perfect little angel…there wasn't a piece or part of her that didn't rival that of any centerfold he'd ever jerked off to, and she far surpassed any other hangaround or crow-eater he'd ever had the opportunity to closely scrutinize. But she was more than a nice rack, gorgeous ass, long legs and a pretty face; she was intelligence like no one could begin to decode, had the sweetest nature that wouldn't even allow her to eat meat, and the loyalty and protectiveness that Tig had never associated with any woman, except for Gemma. Joss…no wonder Bobby had suggested putting her out in the forefront of SAMCRO at the CBA's, no wonder Clay had thought it was such a great idea; no wonder Tig loved her…and no wonder Opie did as well.

Sunday morning approached, that meant there was only more day with her to do nothing but fuck her…sleep a little…fuck her some more…eat if they were hungry, shower when they got too sweaty, and then fuck her some more. He couldn't tear himself away from her, she was like a drug that he'd suddenly found himself addicted to; he needed nothing else from the outside the world, only her, in their bed, an island inhabited by only the two of them, nothing else required, just him for her and her for him. His Joss…he'd wanted her and needed and loved her in more ways than he'd even bothered to ever think about before. She knew he loved her, and when she'd made him have to realize that she did, it was like some final piece of this emotional puzzle that was his life with her had snapped into place…or almost, anyway. There was still something out there Tig had to do here, but what it was still eluded him. The answer seemed to be close whenever he was with her like this though, just holding her close, watching her sleep, stroking her hair, keeping her safe and secure against him. They needed more of this…there would never be enough of this…and he'd fought being here for so fucking long…why? And now the weekend was dwindling away.

Saturday morning had dawned with Joss finding herself to be much more sore than Tig had predicted he'd be himself. It was in the way she'd moved, he'd seen her wince as soon as he'd parted her legs, but she was so perfect, and she wanted him so much; she'd been ready to suffer whatever agony lay ahead to be close to him and give him what she knew he wanted, probably thinking this would increase his pleasure and satisfaction because it would hurt her. And it would definitely have hurt her, for when Tig had eased his hand between her thighs to check her out, he could feel how swollen and tender she was around her entrance, hissing and flinching as he'd lightly touched her. She'd obviously never been fucked so much that she ended up in that condition before, and maybe it was out of some sick, but awesome, pride, but Tig had decided then and there that it was on him to make this all better for her, telling her, "it's okay, baby. You know I won't hurt you, I'll take good care of you."

But she did know her old man, there were times when Tig did want to feel her jolt and jump in pain and shock beneath him, or cry out as he pinched, or twisted or bit some soft part of her form, but doing something to her that would be all pain, and offer her no pleasure? No, he wouldn't do that, not to Joss, and that's when Tig had thought of the baby oil she sometimes poured into her hot baths when she had no other exotically scented varieties. Damn, no wonder her skin was always so fucking soft…having her beneath him was like satin, silk, cashmere and angora all wrapped into one and then wrapping around him…shit, he could scoop that up in his arms and nuzzle against that forever; it made him never want to get off of her, or let go of her.

God damn that shit, what happened to the days when fucking a girl used to only be about pussy? All that used to matter for Tig was a good, deep, hot, wet cockpit strong enough to give him a decent tight hole when the moment was right! And Joss had that…man oh man, did she have that! She was more than built that way, her little pink blossom was beautiful, a petite, juicy bit of sweet peach flesh, barely large enough to hold the viciousness of his big dick, but somehow it did. She was nice and tight, drawn up like a little bow mouth that was so easy to kiss, her slit easily swathed by his lips…and Jesus fucking Christ did he love that she'd shaved herself smooth for him! Now whenever he slid his hand into her jeans there was nothing but smooth, wet, white, creamy pussy eating up his fingers. Hmm…he was so fucking tired…but his dick just flinched…

Joss needed a break though, she really had been worn and wailed…he hadn't gone at it like this since he was…hmm…maybe he didn't want to really remember when that was. But he was a lot for her to take, she was so delicate, and soft…such a sweet, cute little cooch…damn, Tig's dick flinched again…this wasn't fair, he had to stop thinking about this, but he just couldn't. But he had nothing left though, the duration and the intensity, and all the emotions it all whipped wild inside of him had now laid him out…he could think it, but he couldn't do it…not for a few more hours anyway. Tig was used to having a lot of sex over a short amount of time, but he wasn't used to being in love with the girl he did it with…and that had proven to take so much more out of him…but it left him feeling ten times as satisfied…and one hundred times as hungry…as if that made any fucking sense. But it was different from being with the random other women he'd been with…the face, the legs, the twat, the tits, were always different…there wasn't even the memory of a whole woman in his head anymore, just parts of this one, part of that one, but that's all they were to him…parts. But Joss, fuck…he even knew the smell of her, and what that miniscule amount of her provoked inside him was more than Tig used to feel from a line of really good cocaine.

He'd fallen so hard for her…God fucking damn it! But how was he really not going to? She was this…total package of beauty and brains and sex and crazy that accepted him and all his kink, and would even kill for him…fuck…no wonder he'd been tearing it up so hard with her that the skin of his dick was actually raw. Shit…the baby oil helped immensely, but he could use a few good "massages" with some lotion…and with Joss, all he'd have to do was ask…she'd made it pretty clear since Friday night that she liked to touch his dick…the best feeling he'd ever awakened to was that of his dick getting stiffer and stiffer and contracting back against something warm and soft that gripped it with tender squeezes…Joss's hand, her arm over his hip and jerking him slowly and lovingly off in his sleep…which hadn't quite ended in perhaps the way she'd wanted it too, for Tig had her on her back and was nailing her really good in no time, but Joss begged and begged that she'd wanted to see him cum…which also hadn't quite ended in perhaps the way she'd wanted it to, but what man that owned a girl, that didn't love her to the very depths of passion and possession, didn't want to cum on her face, and watch it dripping from her lips and chin onto her beautiful, big, round tits? And she was so fucking beautiful like that, covered in his jizz…maybe not in a classical sense of how "beautiful" was usually thought of, but she was beautifully his; baptized in him. Plus, her little 'helping hand' she'd given him as he slept had given Tig an idea of his own…

Fair was fair, after all…and Tig had a new fixation of his own. His need for…non-responsive partners…was solaced by climbing above Joss as she slept, carefully beginning to fuck her, gently at first, warming her body up to the act itself, but increasing his force and his fervor when she began to get wet for him, playing with her clit, sucking and biting her nipples, and by the time she woke, her body more aware of what Tig was doing to it than was her drowsy mind, she'd throw herself against Tig and go at him as much as he was her, begging, ordering, pleading with him for more; the erotic dream she must have thought she was having a sudden and incredible reality that left her hungry for gratification. It was like…bringing a dead nympho back to life, and Tig not only enjoyed the physicality of it all, but also the essence of some divine power of resurrection it left him with. But then, Tig did have some kind of "power," whether it could truly be called "divine" or not he doubted, but hell…the girl came from just kissing him…that was a first! How many could claim that about their woman? And have it actually be true? Holy shit, Joss was perfect…she somehow knew how to, or was just capable of giving Tig everything he needed and wanted, before he even knew he needed it or wanted it!

But Sunday approached…just one more day…make it last, go as long and as hard as they could…shit, they were going to be out of baby oil by Monday morning! Well, there were better lubes out there, he'd tell Joss where and what, they needed to keep these things on hand…why didn't they before? Well, who knew that fucking her would ever get to be like this? Who knew he'd ever love her? Loving the girl he was fucking really did change a lot of shit…but not in the ways Tig had been dreading. Damn it…only one more day…and then it was back to the garage…where he'd have to see Ope again…by fate his closest of brothers and yet the one Tig was the least fond of…bound together and chained in the same disparaging darkness, but looking towards the same light…in love with the same woman…fuck…he and Opie were the same damn things.

Maybe that had been the other part of Opie's plan? Drive Tig insane, to some murderous rage, or maybe even into taking himself out, and then Joss was all his? Who knew, but it was clear that Ope had feelings for Joss, and why Tig didn't see it before now made him so angry and so frustrated. That night he'd pounded the great divide into Ope's face, for putting a band-aid onto Joss's finger, it had been Ope who had stood up and taken the blame when Clay had turned to Joss and demanded she testify as to what had occurred in the office. Tig knew of course, she'd told him, and he knew he had to real cause to dish out what he had to Opie, but he couldn't help it…Clay however, he may not have been able to just blow it off though, Joss knew it, so did Ope, and rather than let her loyalty to Tig, and to Clay, pull her apart, he'd spoken up. And again with the remark he'd made to her that night doctor bitch had reported all to Tig; Ope had said, "Still looking out for you," hmm…that didn't register beyond Tig's initial jealousy? Why the fuck not? And who had volunteered to watch her as she recovered from her spider monkey fit, despite how out of control and insane she'd been? Ope! And last Friday night, a lot had happened, from Ope asking about Joss, to the way he looked at that Ten Patch…didn't just hold it, but caressed it, moving his thumb gently over it as though it were Joss's pale cheek.

But out of everything, Opie not showing to receive his patches from Joss said it all. Tig had pushed him back earlier that night, told him that Joss was "his old lady" and that Ope had better "let her be his old lady." Well fuck, what better way of doing that than to not to show up? But that simple act on Opie's part, that noble and decent sacrifice, complicated the hell out of what Tig could do about this. Opie loved his Joss, and fuck him, but he was trying to be respectful of her, and even Tig himself. Shit! In a way, Joss was haunted now, and Tig with her; Opie's love for her could never be anything more than a ghost, strong enough to make its presence known, but far too weak to touch her. Tig knew that well, he'd been a ghost once himself a few years ago, lingering in some state in between heartache and bliss, that likely would have just gone on and on forever if it hadn't been for Joss herself.

Gemma…that woman used to turn Tig upside down and make him think about shit that was more than detrimental to them both. He still wasn't willing to call that "love," infatuation maybe, but "love?" He loved Joss, and now he knew what that felt like, and if he'd "loved" Gemma, well…he'd be dead right now, because there'd have been no way in hell Tig'd been able to not act on such intense and all consuming feelings for her. He'd had his chance with her once, a weak moment on Gemma's part, so shaken up and doubtful of her desirability, that she'd offered herself to the most base and pitiful of Clay's brethren…but in the end, it had been Tig who'd turned her down, his love and loyalty to Clay, and the club, stronger than what he felt for her.

Ghosts…Tig knew ghosts only did damage if they were allowed to, something had to give them the strength to squeeze into whatever crevice appeared between who they loved and who she belonged to. He wouldn't do that, he was confident of that; not just telling Joss about Opie, but also telling her that she'd done nothing to cause it, was the start of building a strong foundation between him and her that was never going to crack. Joss loved him, he had all the evidence of that he needed, and for the first time in his life, Tig had zero doubts about what he meant to someone else; Joss loved him, with all that she was. He didn't have to worry about her, and he didn't…but…Tig just couldn't live with another ghost, he had far too many now, but what could he do? There was only one thing. The same thing Clay had done. Trust his woman.

Chapter 56; Part 2

This was the first time, since Friday at the party, that Joss had clothes on! Wow…that was quite a streak…that she would have loved to have been able to be continuing now, but…well, even Tig knew that when Gemma called to invite Joss out to a late Sunday lunch, taking a raincheck wasn't an option. It had been far from what she'd planned, and ever further from what she'd wanted, despite that her body was so sore, and so was Tig's, and their sheets were a mess with sweat and semen and baby oil…at least getting out of bed had given her the opportunity to throw them in the washer, and put clean ones on the bed…that were awaiting her return from this lunch…to be christened with even more sweat, semen and baby oil…hmm, there had to be something better than that out there, Joss would stop by the drugstore on her way home; 'warming on contact' or not, some KY was definitely in order! And Tig had said something about cocoa butter too…yeah, wouldn't hurt…literally!

God did she still want her man, even though she was parking the truck now across the street from the only little café in Charming, stepping out of it and making sure she locked it as she struggled to find a comfortable, and natural way to have her purse hang from her shoulder with the literal and psychological weight of the loaded Glock G19 concealed inside it. There was no arguing with Tig about it, she was going to start carrying that gun, and Joss knew why; Opie.

"I'm not saying you're going to use it," Tig had replied as he slid her clip into it for her, the first time the two parts had connected since before she'd blown the bathroom door down and sped off to the clubhouse just over a week ago. "I'm saying you'll have it if you need to," he checked that the safety was on, then held the gun by the barrel and handed it to her, looking at her levelly. "You've got your gun, you've got your clip now too, and I won't get in your way this time."

His words had stunned her, he'd never so much as asked why'd she'd ended up at the clubhouse that night, and Joss, not wanting to revisit that turmoil, had kept her mouth closed. Yes, of course, she was going to tell him one day…but she was waiting for the right time…that had apparently come and gone already. "So you know?"

Tig took both of her shoulders in his hands and looked at her, but it was as if that wasn't enough contact, and his hand soon rested against her face, his thumb smoothing over her cheek, and then finally he pulled her against him, hugging her tightly in a way so familiar now. "I know what you mean to me, and what I mean to you, baby. And that's enough."

And it must have been, because he was far too calm and calculating about this Opie thing. It was making Joss feel badly for not having told Tig about all of Opie's antics before, she'd underestimated her man, thought him too mentally…fragile…yes, fragile…it was an ugly and horrible thing to realize now, but it was true…she'd thought Tig too mentally fragile to know what Opie had been up to with the band-aid, the chest tap, the crackers. But obviously, Tig could handle it; because he was handling it…what did he know that she didn't?

Well, she had to stop thinking about this now…it wasn't something she really wanted to be discussing with Gemma just yet…maybe one day, but right now? No. Poor Opie…he wasn't a bad guy; he'd always been nice to her, even when she hated him for being so. But he was kind and considerate to her; there was nothing that could have removed him from her side last Friday night when she'd awakened from her foggy sleep…she knew it was wrong then, but he'd held her hand, caressed her face and head in his big hand, and promised her, "you're going to be alright." Whatever the fallout from this was, Joss hoped it wouldn't be anything brutal…but at the same time, this couldn't continue.

Her hand was on the door pull of the quaint little gourmet sandwich shop now, okay, stop thinking about it, don't worry about it, Tig knew, he knew everything, and she was confident he'd handle it, or at least, tell her how to.

"Oh my God," Joss heard Gemma before she even saw her, and she was standing there by a table with Abel in his carrier, hanging from both her arms. Well, it looked like Jax and Tara were having some alone time today…shit…Joss wanted to get back to her alone time too…even if it was making her walk funny now…Tig, she loved him so God damn much, and that love needed to be fed…with lots and lots and lots of orgasms, or so it seemed…shit, now she was smiling, and blushing…Gemma was going to know exactly what she'd interrupted! "Look at you!" She was exclaiming now, taking Joss in as she leaned over her and surveyed everything about her…yeah…damn it…Gemma must have been able to read minds! "You have got Tigger's little sucker marks all over your neck! Did you even look in the mirror before you left the house?"

Hmm…maybe Gemma's skills were a bit more general than reading minds? "Well," Joss stammered. "I didn't exactly have a lot of time to get ready, so I guess I didn—"

Gemma started laughing. "No, I guess you didn't," she said, smirking with one eyebrow raised. "I can see how Tigger's a tall order to fill, his needs likely aren't that generic, or that easily put to bed." She said, and then upon realizing her choice of words, began to snicker all over again.

Well, there wasn't any sense in denying it, was there? It was all over her…in so many ways…Oh God, please don't let there be cum in her hair or something too! Now Joss was laughing, which really was relaxing, and soon thoughts of Opie were gone from her mind. She nodded her head at Gemma. "It's been a pretty good weekend." She admitted.

"Bet you're hungry," Gemma smiled, and Joss began to realize she was, starving…poor Tig…he was likely hungry too, and the only thing he really knew how to make was cereal…and those canned raviolis…which he ate cold…as long as it was a pull top can, and not one requiring him to get the little hand cranked can opener…which he'd have to fidget with, curse at and finally banish outside into the back yard…some day, years from now, after the house was rubble, there'd likely be some troop of Boy Scouts out for a hike and come across a big pile of old can openers in the woods. Ha! Joss was laughing again…Tig, he was so funny…fuck…she really wanted to get back to him! The sound of Gemma speaking pulled her out of her Tig thoughts…though she really wanted to stay there within them…"So, I called and got a table…" Gemma said, then slowly stepped out of the way with the baby, and as she did, Joss's heart flew into her throat and she stood there staring, happy, excited and worried. There sat Tara, who looked back at Joss, wearing the same distressed expression, and she shrugged her shoulders; obviously, Tara had gotten an invitation to a late Sunday lunch as well. "A table for two," Gemma continued then sighed, ignoring both the girl's shocked and duped expressions. "Abel and I are going to go and see if Harley makes boots in his size!"


	57. Natural Selection

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 57

"Alright look," Tara finally leaned over the table a bit, ignoring her Cobb Salad and unable to make small talk anymore. Joss was doing her best to pretend everything was okay, she didn't really want to talk about it herself, but it was there, beneath every word she and Tara said to one another, like some kind of camouflaged invader, infiltrating their plan to just get through this lunch. Joss was a little angry once, but now, looking at how lost and scrambling for some kind of balance Tara was, she just couldn't find that temptation to tell her what she really thought of going to Tig behind her back. The last few days had been rough on Joss, but thanks to Tig, she was emerging from that horrid cocoon with a better sense of herself and her relationship with him. The last few days had also been hard on Tara as well, that was evident, her eyes were sunken with dark circles that told of her sleeplessness, her hair was dull and frizzy, like she hadn't been giving it the full treatment of products she usually took the time to use, she wore no make-up, had sweat pants on…Joss may have rolled in here looking like a porn star after a long, hard day on the set, but Tara was a mess, plain and simple. But then how could Tara be okay after all that had gone down between the two of them? And there hadn't been very complimentary things being said about her throughout the club either…and since Jax told Tara everything, she likely knew about all of the comments too. Why would any brother tell their old lady everything? Why burden her with that? That's not what Tig did, and that's not what their relationship needed in order to work. It was the structure that Tig had provided Joss with that had helped her climb out of all that shit…but nothing like that existed in Tara's world. She sighed and shook her head at Joss, pushing her plate away disinterestedly. "I know you probably hate me now, and I've given you a more than adequate reason to, but I just want you to know, that's not how I feel about you."

"Tara," Joss sighed, pushing her own plate away…she'd eaten all of the olives out of her Greek Salad, and though she'd been starving when she got here, she was more than full now. "If you called Gemma about this, and that's what she told you to say, it's not—"

"I did call Gemma," she admitted. "I had to after that text you sent me! What was I supposed to do?"

"Oh," Joss groaned…she loved Tig, she loved every ounce of Tig, but damn him! "I didn't send you that, Tig grabbed my phone away and he did it."

Again Tara sighed. "That's what Gemma said happened."

"Well, she's right." Shit, there wasn't another fight brewing because Tara thought Joss really would have texted her the words, "Go away," was there? Fuck! Maybe Joss should have stuck to her guns a little more in explaining and confessing some of her concerns to Gemma about having lunch with Tara…Tig had told her that he didn't want her talking to Tara anymore, but when she'd informed Gemma of that latest issue from the man that owned her, Gemma had just sighed and put her hand on Joss's shoulder. "Joss, I know Clay's plans for Tig," she said graciously, "and I know you realize where that puts you as well," the mother in Gemma couldn't resist and her hand crept to Joss's neck, trying to smudge away one of the hickies from Tig, but it of course didn't work. "There are always going to be things you're told not to do, but you've got to learn how to pick out which ones you actually have to do, so they're not gnawing at you for the rest of your life. If you're distracted, your man is distracted, and this club is distracted! Tigger loves you; that's good, but it clouds the decisions he makes concerning you. You've got to learn which decisions are his head talking, and which ones are his heart talking, and you've got to learn to do it starting now."

Tara was quiet for a few seconds, looking down at her silverware, her hand holding her head and squeezing the life out of one strand of her long, brown hair. "Tig really hates me, you know."

"What? No," Joss was trying to sound surprised and shake her head. "He's just Tig, you know how he is." Tara really needed to find a way to fit in with the club, with the life, and sadly, she was going to have to do it on her own, Jax was no help. But how could she even begin to pick her way across this treacherous, tattered bridge if she thought everyone hated her?

"Joss," Tara just shot her an annoyed glare, not appreciating that Joss was trying to convince her otherwise. "He hates me."

Joss sighed. "Yeah." She finally admitted. "But I don't!"

"How can you not?" Tara asked. "You belong to him, he owns you, you have to do what he says…" She sighed with exasperation again and had that uppity quality to her voice that Joss was again trying to ignore. She didn't understand still…maybe Tig was right, Tara was unfixable.

"He doesn't own my emotions, Tara!" Joss laughed a bit…but then realized..."well, he sorta does, I guess, but he can't make me feel something I don't feel just because he wants me to." She reached out and grabbed her glass of water and lemon, not really thirsty but feeling the need to hold onto something, then took a drink to avoid looking too strange. "It's a property patch, not some voodoo marking."

Again Tara was silent for a few seconds, finally pulling her napkin from her lap, and before Joss knew it, Tara started to cry. "You should hate me," she said. "I'm sorry! I did a very stupid thing, and I know it now…Jax told me about…" she paused and seemed to remember where they were and that there were plenty of ears listening. "About you, not feeling too great, and the wrench and everything…and if I hadn't said anything to Tig—"

"Whoa!" Joss interjected, and leaned over the table herself this time. "You don't know anything about that, first of all." She clarified. "Nothing! You don't know about the wrench, and you don't know what it was used for, or who used it, or who was on the other end of it! Are we both good on that?" Damn, Joss hadn't meant to sound threatening, but she'd sort of come off that way…kinda like Gemma might have…hmmm…maybe she had meant to sound a little bit threatening, because Gemma would have been. She waited for Tara to agree, and she did, nodding her head with wide eyes. "And second, you didn't cause my…illness; there's a lot we never talked about as far as what I grew up with, but it doesn't matter, just understand that you didn't 'turn me into' something horrible. Threaten my man, try to take him away from me, not just try to hurt him, but actually do it, and it really brings out the worst in me…so that's not on you, that was all me."

"But," Tara's brow furrowed and she was shaking her head, clearly not able to accept that answer, not wanting that to be the truth. "Joss, that isn't good!" She said, "a change in someone's behavior like that, from one extreme to another in one sudden shift…that's…you might be—"

"Don't!" Joss said flatly, confidently and unapologetically. She'd talked about this already with Gemma, and damn if it all didn't make even more sense now. "I know what it is, Tara." She said. "And it has its place, and every day I figure out where that is a little more and a little more." Joss took a deep breath, Gemma would have been proud, and the idea of that made her need another drink of water and lemon. She looked back at Tara, for this conversation, despite the medical knowledge that Tara had been about to lay down, was under Joss' control, and patience and understanding just hadn't been pushing Tara down the path she needed to walk…if Tig could handle directness, then Tara could. "That's what you have to do," Joss told her, pushing away the feeling that she was too young to be talking to someone as accomplished as Tara was in the tone of voice she was using…in the end, Tara knew nothing, Joss had the seniority. "There's a place for you in this club, and if Jax isn't going to define it for you, then you have to take your cues from the club itself, and what they're all telling you right now is that you can't stand in the middle of the road. A foot in that world and one in this life isn't going to take you anywhere in either one. You know that, and that's why you're always so frustrated and anxious around the club, and that's the same reason they're that way around you. Decide where you want to be, Tara, and be there! I know you can do this!"

Tara was nodding, but there were more tears in her eyes. "You're right," she said, then sighed and wiped at the moisture on her face. "That's why I wish you did hate me, it would make this easier."

Joss felt her stomach tightening with anxious worry, just what did that mean? Who did she need to protect? "Tara, you're not going to do something that in your mind somehow gets you even on everyone, are you?" She asked, there were no more gloves, no more politeness, just the bare, hard facts of MC life. "Don't! You're my friend, and I don't want to see you dead! I'm not kidding!"

But Tara shook her head, her eyes squeezed shut; she was quiet for a few seconds as she tried to contain herself, finally dabbing at her teary eyes with the napkin again then tossing it down onto the table. "No," she said and took another deep breath. "It's not anything like that."

"Thank God!" Joss said, nodding her own head, and so relieved, happy even, though it didn't come across very much in her voice.

"It's about what you said, about making a choice," Tara continued, looking steadily at Joss now. "I'm with Jax, but I'm not going to anymore club parties, you won't see me on any runs with Jax, and I won't be hanging around anymore in general," she said, and she sighed again, obviously having thrown that napkin down too early, because she was crying again. "I love Jax, and I've tried to love what he's part of, but I'm a doctor, Joss. And that's what I'll be to this club, a doctor, whenever they need one." Again Tara paused, like she didn't want to continue, but both Joss and Tara knew she had one more thing to say. "I have made my choice about which life I'm going to live. And it's not with the club."

Chapter 57; Part 2

"Aw fuck, c'mon, baby, stop crying…please?" God damn it…this just wrecked everything…it didn't suck enough that Gemma had pulled Joss away, but she'd returned her like this? And she'd set her up with Tara? Jesus fucking Christ…the next time Gemma jammed an intermission into Tig's fuck-fest, he was going along to lunch too, God damn it! Joss was wiping at her eyes now, and she hadn't really been full out crying, but just a little weepy…still…"a little weepy" didn't translate into "a lot horny," and Tig wasn't ready to quit yet…even if he had taken the chance while she was gone to find clothes enough to go change the oil in his bike and make a few calls about the fucking CBA's next weekend…he was serious about having a bodyguard with Joss at all times, and he'd began to draw up a schedule for it too. "Joss," he nearly whined her name as she looked up at him, then down again to wipe at more flowing tears. "C'mon…you know I hate having to be there for you when it's about shit I do understand caring about…but this? Really?" He shook his head and threw up his hands…what could he do? She understood; he knew she did, so why was she this upset about doctor bitch finally going back to where she fucking belonged? "I gotta tell ya, Joss, I'm about done with this, I got nothin' left to say to you."

"Okay," Joss sighed, and then huffed, and sighed again. "I get it, thanks for the warning." She barely managed not to snip, and finally dried her remaining tears roughly on her shirt sleeves. "I'm fine, you don't have to stay here and hold my hand through it, just go and do whatever it is you'd rather be doing, because I never asked you to say anything to begin with, did I?"

"Hey!" Tig grunted and narrowed his eyes forebodingly at her; that tone of voice was getting awfully close to snippy now, and he hated snippy. "I can say whatever I want, remember?" He asked…but he took it easy on her…at least, he tried to. He knew by now that Joss only got "snippy" and challenged him when she was really worried about something, or really shaken up by it. He may not have understood what she was mourning in the loss of doctor bitch, or even really have cared…but his beautiful little angel was going through something, and he cared about her. Her eyes were submissively downcast now, her beautiful red lips frowning and quivering just a little. Damn it…here they were again…from a weekend of building a strong foundation, impregnable to Opie's feelings, to her being snippy and Tig being…Tig. "Joss," he sighed, and took her under the chin again, tilting her head up so they could see one another eye to eye. "You know I'm not mad about you talking to Jax's doctor bitch, Gemma pulled you into that, it wasn't your fault," he said, trying to speak softly, but he just wanted her to stop this…now…no more doctor bitch was a good thing! Now if they could just get her to take Jax with her! "There's nothing for you to be crying about, baby, so c'mon, stop."

"But I can't help it," Joss looked back at him with so much sadness in her eyes and so in need of shelter from it, that before Tig even knew what he was doing, he was up on the couch with her, both his arms around her, tucking her face against his shoulder. "She won't be around anymore, Tig. She's my doctor now, that's it; not my friend, because she can't hack the life."

"That's right," Tig replied, holding her, but his voice couldn't have been more carefree in the way he'd said that. "That's what I've been telling you for how long now?"

"I tried to help her," Joss still sniffled, her cheek on his shoulder, and her hands flat against his chest, but Tig could feel how much they wanted to latch around his neck and hold tight.

Fuck, what was he becoming? And how close to done was he with this metamorphosis? He wasn't going to change too much more than this, was he? "Go ahead," he sighed and shook his head, wishing he still had the terror inside of him that would have just pushed her onto the floor and away from him to begin with. Well…at least he wasn't the only one that was changing, he'd been impressed with what Joss had just said, that she'd "tried to help" doctor bitch, and not "I didn't do enough to help her," that was fucking huge, right there! But he knew not to celebrate just yet.

And Joss was immediately hugging him, her trembling body so close to his, but somehow finding the strength now to stop the trembling, and Tig felt his own hand gently rubbing her back, up and down. "Tig," she murmured against his neck, her eyelashes flicking against his skin and making him crazy…okay, she had to get over this soon, because he was going to end up kissing her again, and it wouldn't end there, and he wasn't going to stop until his dick shed its skin like a snake. "I know I've said this before, but I don't really say it enough. Thank you for all that you do for me, and the parameters you set for me, and also for what you expect out of me. I know it makes no sense, but really, you owning me has given me more freedom than what I've ever known before in my life."

He cringed, couldn't stop himself. "No, please…" he just held her and shook his head. "Let's not do this next, okay? I'm already exactly where I don't wanna fuckin' be with this doctor bitch shit…you start pouring on how good I am to you, and my head's gonna fuckin' explode!"

And Joss laughed…Jesus fucking Christ…what was funny about that statement? Would he ever understand what made this girl laugh so much about him? But it also made him pull her a little closer, and stroke the back of her head, running his finger through her silky, midnight hair. "Okay," she said, and he knew she was smiling now on top of everything…oh well, at least she wasn't fucking crying anymore. "But it's true." Tig groaned…there was a time for this, and it wasn't now…or later. Joss lifted her head off of his shoulder. "It is!" She said adamantly. "You do realize how much easier this life would have been for Tara if Jax was even half the man to her that you are to me." He wanted to stop her, but she didn't pause long enough…and he didn't tell her to shut up either…fuckin' orgasm bonds…wow, he hadn't thought about those in awhile, but the damn things were working! God damn it! "You know I tried to do that for Tara too?" Joss asked, looking at him now, but Tig had to relocate what they were talking about…fucking orgasm bonds…"I tried to subtly tell her how things should be, and what she should do, how she should think about it all, tell her what everyone expected out of her…direction, I tried to give her direction, like you always have given me…but," she sighed and looked at Tig some more, this time shaking her head in some kind of…awe. "I don't know how you do it, Tig! I really don't!"

"Well," Tig sighed…okay, that Joss understood what it was like on his side of the fence now was something…couldn't hurt that anti-Opie foundation any, either. "I've been beatin' bitches into shape a lot longer than you have." Again she was laughing! What the hell? "Joss, you wanna explain this to me?" He asked, indicating her laughter with his hands, as she sat there with her arms holding him, his own around her and her head on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she laughed again. "It's you!" But Tig was pretty sure it wasn't, how could it be? What was he doing that was funny? "You're just so damn…quaint!" And then Joss really laughed, but damn…she was laughing…she wasn't hung up on doctor bitch anymore…holy shit…was his sweet, dark, little angel finally getting it? Was she finally just letting something go, and not blaming herself for its failure? Fuck, she just got more and more perfect!

"Hey," he said, and nudged her out of her laughter a bit. "You're okay, aren't you?"

Joss sighed and lay her head back down on his shoulder again…fuck, he shoulda just left this alone! "Well," she began and quickly paused. "I'm going to miss her, Tig. I mean, she wasn't all bad, she just had some obstacles in front of her…that in the end she couldn't overcome." Joss sighed again and was quiet for a moment, Tig wondering what the hell he could say now that was going to make her laugh again…shit, he'd fucked this up! But then Joss raised her head again. "But it's better this way. I told her she can't live in both worlds; that she can only be loyal to one of them…but I guess she was being loyal to the one she chose all along, and that's why she never fit in with this one."

Now Tig smiled, God damn but she was smart! Even though he'd been the one saying that to her over and over and over again…but finally, Joss came to, and she understood! "Man, Joss!" He said exuberantly, he just couldn't stop himself from making his pride in her known. "Thank you for not doing that shit you always do!" He congratulated, but Joss didn't exactly jump up and take a bow…she actually sank more against him and nodded…well, okay, this thing with doctor bitch hadn't ended the way she'd been hoping it would; whatever the reason was, Joss did like doctor bitch. Tig sighed and pulled her closer with a groan more protective than it was sympathetic, but kissed her, trapping her against his chest for few seconds; her skin was so…so soft. "Baby," he said against the top of her head. "I'm sorry you lost your friend." What the fuck was he saying? He didn't have to try that fucking hard to get laid, he owned her! But…God damn him…that wasn't why he'd said it, and he knew it, and so did Joss, who snuggled closer to him, silent; her and those blessed silences when anyone else would have confirmed the shit he said to them with a confidence marring "thank you," but not his Joss…his sweet, silent, Joss. "You know what I think?"

"Okay," she raised her head again. "You can tell me, but please, Tig! Please understand that I don't really want to trash Tara right now, okay?"

"I know, I know, I know," he groaned disappointedly. "I wasn't going to say anything…quaint." He finally spat out, and kind of smirked, and sure enough, Joss was laughing again. "I meant about what Gemma did, bringing the two of you together today," he said, and was laughing a little himself. "She adopted both you and doctor bitch, one because she had to, and the other because she wanted to, but she couldn't keep two of you. So, she did what nature does; left the two of alone in the nest and waited for whichever one was stronger to throw the weaker one out." Tig explained, taking Joss under the chin again and looking into her eyes. "You're the one that's left, baby. Not only does that make you the strong one here, but you're also the smarter one, because taking a fucking voluntary nose dive outta that nest was a really stupid shit move!"

"Hmmm," Joss mused, and readjusted her arms around him, rubbing his back now a little as she held to him…damn that felt good…he had too many clothes on. "You know, you might be right!" she said raising her head and looking at him with some sudden gleam in her eye that Tig didn't quite understand…but it looked a lot like the way Clay had been looking at him the other night when Tig was sitting there at the head of the table, begrudgingly making the call about Joss at the CBA's…yeah…that was the look…shit! No fucking way! Really?

Whatever Clay knew, Joss also knew…and it would be just like Clay to confide in Joss…the now one and only princess of SAMCRO…holy fuck…his dark, sweet, perfect little angel was more than only perfect; she was fucking lineage! Whoa, him and Joss and the club…his kingdom and his queen…and just to even the likenesses out a bit more, there stood Opie in the shadows, like some…big, hairy, Chewbadooba Lancelot, devoted to the club, maybe one day even one of the brothers Tig relied on the most…and he was in love with the queen…damn near a mirror reflection of himself, Gemma and Clay all those years ago…shit…one more time the feeling that whatever Tig had done, or said, or had been to Joss, for Joss or with Joss, none of it was enough…damn that girl, she brought so many things into his life, so many incredible things…and there was still something left to say to her…but what was it?


	58. Tiger, Tiger Burning Bright

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 58

"Ooh, I canna watch this anymoore, Jossy!" Chibs was laughing, turning away as if some gory scene were playing out in front of him, but Joss was holding his hand so tightly, there was no way he could have abandoned her, even if he had truly wanted to. "Blooody awful place yeh chose, girl!"

"I know!" Joss almost screamed, and squeezed Chibs's hand even more. "And that's why you aren't leaving me, this hurts like hell!" Oh God…the needle seemed like it was made of molten metal, jabbing and stabbing into the skin over her lower ribcage for what seemed like forever now…Jesus Christ…at least she wasn't getting color…but the detail work alone was now really beginning to kill her…she wanted so badly to call a time out…but she'd bet Tig she could make it all the way through, without stopping, unless of course the artist himself needed or wanted to take a break. She never would have agreed to such a thing…this being her first tattoo and all…but they were at the CBA's and Tig was in such a foul mood…offering herself up as some sort of pin cushion had seemed to bring him around a little, and with Gemma now sitting at the SAMCRO booth, it freed Joss up to get her ink done, with Chibs alongside as her currently assigned security detail…by decree of Tig, of course. Tig had refused to even come into the CBA's, he was out in the parking lot, hanging in the little off site, tent city, clubhouse that SAMCRO had set up…if anyone asked where he was, he'd told her to tell them he was "camping."

It hadn't really been that bad of a day, despite Tig's misgivings about the CBA's. Yes, there were civilians everywhere…and they all had stupid comments and questions, and all of them that stopped by SAMCRO's booth had some "secret" word or salute to share with her, trying to maybe impress her with their knowledge of the one percenter world, and Joss had spent a lot time explaining that her patch did mean that she was the property of a reaper man…and then she'd have to explain just what "property" meant…it was getting tedious, and the day wasn't even half over yet. And then she'd noticed the local tattoo shop had their own booth…

On the more enjoyable side, besides her ink, she'd been getting compliments all day long about how pretty she was, and about how she "didn't seem like a biker bitch"…whatever that meant…and every time someone said it, she had to bite her tongue to keep from asking them what they were basing that on…driving the motorcycle equivalent of a station wagon, lots of compartments and saddle bags to hold their GPS and CD's, picnic lunches and bottles of wine…yeah, idiot stock brokers and IT Directors…she had no trouble seeing why Tig was more than annoyed with them. But Joss was able to smile through her annoyance, and she'd posed for quite a lot of pictures today too…and when the first guy had asked if he could get a picture with her, wow, had that been fun! Joss had no right to decide if she could pose in a picture with someone, or for someone…she, and her likeness, belonged to Tig, and that's just who she'd called. He'd sworn he wasn't even coming into the official grounds of the CBA's, he was just going to hang in the parking lot all damn day, but when she had put that question to him, her man had come into the SAMCRO booth, and that civilian with the camera got to see just what "Property of Tig" really meant…and then he'd made the guy give him twenty dollars for taking a picture with Joss. Wow…Tig and civilians…it was going to be an interesting weekend!

Far worse than the civilians though, were the wannabes; they looked like bikers, they talked like bikers, they covered themselves in ink that mimicked various clubs, and wore a lot of patches…but none of them had the balls to be actual bikers. They were only here to get their rocks off by maybe fooling other civilians into thinking they were one percenters too, and collecting respect they were a long way from having earned. Joss hated them about as much as Tig did, particularly because most of them had been walking past the SAMCRO booth all day, eyeing her up, grinning and pointing and leering at her as if she was some common hangaround. Assholes…just wait until her old man found out! In that instance, Joss was glad that Tig had arranged for her to have a "bodyguard" on duty, giving the brothers he trusted the most each three hour shifts to sit with her. Clay had been first, and now it was Chibs, who'd given her that last bit of courage she'd needed to go and get the tattoo she'd always dreamed of.

It would have been nice if Tig could have been here to see her getting her first tattoo…it wasn't like he was hiding from anyone out there in the parking lot, there was actually more civilians out there, with all their creative attempts at refurbishing a motorcycle, than there were in here, because the bigger party was out there, un-policed, in the parking lot of the CBA's…hmm…oh…so that's why he was out there…probably trying to drink away where he was. Oh well, at least Joss would have the chance to surprise him with the ink she got when it was done. Once she had his permission, it hadn't taken her long to think of this, but she also hadn't told Tig what she was getting, she'd only promised him that he'd see himself in it…a tiger, in black portrait, standing there regally, bent a little bit around the curves of her hip and waist, its head held high and tilted a bit like the big cat was rubbing affectionately on her lower ribcage, but its expression slightly aggravated, mouth slightly open, just enough to show off the big, sharp teeth that no one wanted any part of. It was perfect…like having Tig's name scrawled on her skin, but no letters needed!

She'd always wanted something like this, something that would make everyone who saw it think of Tig, but if she'd ever done it before, Tig would have been pissed…but she belonged to him now, it was more than "okay," it was expected…and she'd kept her skin clear of any ink until this moment had arrived in her life. But laying on the table the way she was, she couldn't see the total design, or even what parts were finished, she had Chibs for that…and also emotional support…but mostly, he was like that leather strap they used to put in people's mouths when the surgeon starting cutting in cowboy movies. God damn this hurt…it wasn't too bad to start with…but now…Oh God…Joss wondered sometimes if the artist had put down the tattoo gun and decided to do the rest of the design with the end of his lit cigarette. Tig had laughed and told her she was in for a "world of hurt," when she told him where she was getting her ink, but Jesus…did it ever end? No, it didn't…fuck…and she couldn't move, she had to stay still, move and it messed up the design…there was no way to get away from it, no way to lessen it even for a second or two…Joss took a deep deep breath and then slung her arm over her eyes, hoping to disappear from the burning, skin ripping pain that way.

"Jossy," Chibs whispered, obviously noticing her distress. "Yeh needin' a break, loove?"

"No," she shook her head fiercely. "If I do, Tig wins…I want to show him I can do this!" And she did…she was tired of hearing how he fell asleep when he got his back cover done; she didn't doubt that he did, and if he could take it, she could take it…he had to know she was strong enough. "Besides, I think he wants me to win! Might improve his outlook on being here, too." They had quite a future ahead of them, and the more solid she could show him she was, the better for everyone and everything they touched! "I'm good," she said to Chibs…but then couldn't stop herself from wincing and drawing in a hissing breath as the jabbing needle suddenly felt like it gouged a thirty-eight caliber sized hole into her skin, bounced off her rib and then went skipping across her stomach…she gasped and looked up at Chibs again, holding his hand with both of hers now. "Just, don't let me pass out, okay?"

"Hey, Joss," she knew it was Sack who approached her, but she couldn't look at him the way she was laying, but she could see him peripherally, and he seemed to be carrying a Styrofoam plate or bowl. "Tig said to feed you."

"What?" Chibs jeered, looking up at the prospect. "Did he sa'ay tooo let'er out tooo?"

Joss laughed, but was shaking her head. "No, he's only trying to make me take a break!" She said to Sack. "Thank you, but I'm not hungry just yet."

By that time Chibs had leaned over and looked at the Styrofoam dish Sack carried and scoffed at it. "Yeh expect 'er tooo eat a big bowl a pickle relish, doo yeh, proospect?"

"Hey, man," Sack was looking at the little green pickle chunks and shaking his head too. "Tig says this is what she eats…I just brought it over here."

Joss started to laugh…yeah, that sounded like something Tig would do. "Well, usually, they still look like whole pickles when I eat them, but yeah." She admitted to Chibs, but then looked back at Sack. "How is Tig? Is he behaving?"

Sack rolled his eyes, obviously not sure what he could say and what he couldn't say. "Oh yeah, he's 'behaving,'" he said. "Vlad the Impaler I think used to behave similiarly."

"Oh no," Joss groaned, and closed her eyes again, but gave Chibs's hand another squeeze, and he squeezed back this time, showing his support. She could just see Tig, leaning there on his bike, relaxed, smoking a cigarette, with a ring of impaled three-piecers around him, blood dripping and nerve endings still making their legs dance. "How many fights has he gotten into?"

"About three," Replied Sack, counting on his fingers, then grimacing a little and kind of bobbing his head side to side as he thought it over. "Well, more like two and a half, because Ope pulled him out of the last one and they've been talking ever since, so he's kinda mellow right now."

"Really?" Joss was so surprised she nearly sat up to read Sack's face and make sure he was telling her the truth. Tig was talking with Ope? After Opie interrupted his fight? Tig loved to fight, and he hated to talk to Opie…but he was "mellow," really?

"We're awl keeepin' an eye on'im, Jossy." Assured Chibs. "He's o'er broother, we noo how he is. Set yer worries else wheres."

"Yeah, but he and Opie?" She asked, looking at Chibs then Half-Sack, and then finally down at the artist, still engrossed in his work. "Hey," she said as politely as her stinging, smoldering skin and thundering, anxious heart would allow her to. "How close to finished are we here?" She had to get out there…if Tig was "mellow," talking to Opie was likely to change that pretty soon…besides, Tig had gotten into two or three fights already? Shit! It was only a little after one o'clock…this didn't end until ten tonight, and then they had tomorrow to get through as well…not to mention that the parties in the parking lot just went on all night…shit…yeah, she had to go check on her man…a blow job might settle him down and put his mind back in a happier place than the CBA's were for him, or talking with Ope was…"when my fist clenches, crack it open…" wasn't that a line in the last song Tig had communicated his feelings and needs to her in?

"Another twenty, maybe thirty minutes," answered the young man with the brown goatee and big, huge, fuzzy side burns. "If you have to go—"

"Noo!" Chibs quickly answered, and placed his hand on Joss's shoulder, holding her down on the table and looking at her now as the artist continued with the work. "Yer right, girlie," he said to her, nodding. "Tig wants yeh to win."

Chapter 58; Part 2

She'd left the purple and black western style shirt she wore tied under her bust line, the gauze pads taped to her torso kept wrinkling up, and the adhesive tape holding them on was pulling away with every stride, but Joss kept running, all the way out to where the little tent "Clubhouse" was, hoping she wasn't already too late and that Tig hadn't killed Opie or anything like that. But her ink was done, and all it one sitting…no breaks! But she hadn't taken the time to really look at it, just asked to be taped up, and then she was on her way to Tig…hoping he hadn't gone and done…something.

The black and silver tent looked empty, SAMCRO bikes all around it, including Tig's, and Opie's, but everyone must have been inside the CBA's…where Joss should have technically been, but she had to know all was well...the club may have been Tig's first priority, but Tig was her first priority, and she knew he wouldn't be inside the awards…at least if he was, she'd likely have been aware of it, because there'd have been some kind of rampaging beat-down occurring. And then she heard Tig's voice as she got closer to the tent, confirming he was in there…but who was he talking to? He didn't sound angry or annoyed, he was just talking…it had to be Clay, but when Joss pushed the tent flap back, she was stunned to see her man and Opie, seated in folding camping chairs, each drinking a beer, smoking a cigarette and just…talking.

"Hey!" Tig looked up at her and kind of scowled in confusion. "You can't be making a positive impression on the civilians from here! Whaddya want?"

Shit! Had she interrupted something in her assumption that something was either wrong or was shortly going to be? And she was standing there looking all suspicious too! "Sorry!" Joss about squeaked with a quick intake of breath. "I thought—"

"It's okay," Opie swallowed the last of his beer and popped his cigarette back into his mouth as he stood, taking a drag. "I was thinking about going back to the 'zoo' anyway."

"Yeah," said Tig, but remained seated, "not me, man."

"Don't blame you," replied Ope, set down his empty and leaned down to duck through the doorway, stopping momentarily in front of Joss as he did, giving her a small, pleasant smile, that also seemed so hurried and hidden. "Joss," he said, giving her a politely acknowledging nod, like he would have tipped his hat had he been wearing one with some kind of brim, then took his leave.

Joss let him pass without looking at him, she was too shocked…she'd never expected this, and now she had no idea what would happen next. Was Tig angry? Was Tig high? That would certainly explain him having a calm and mature conversation with Opie, the way normal adults did…but Tig's eyes weren't dilated, or blood shot, his reactions weren't delayed…what the hell was going on? He was the one who had said Opie was in love with her, so why wasn't he choking him out? "Are you okay?" She asked, completely without answers and hoping Tig would tell her something…because if he kept this a secret, which he had every right to do, Joss wouldn't sleep tonight.

"Yeah," he looked back at her and shrugged, taking another drink of his beer. "Are you?"

"I don't know," Joss shook her head. "You've been in an awful mood all day and—"

"Still am," he said, as if reminding her.

"Right," she nodded. "So I don't know if I'm 'okay' until you tell me what that was."

"Hey," now Tig smiled mysteriously and pointed at her. "You get it all done? It's finished? How many breaks you have to ask for?"

Shit, he was changing the subject and asking about the gauze pads that covered her brand new ink. She loved him, and her patch was her most valued possession, but God damn, sometimes it sucked to be property! Joss sighed. "Yeah, it's finished." She said flatly, and looked at him steadily and unsmilingly, letting him know she wanted to talk about him and Opie, but all Joss could really do was hope that Tig would give a little bit.

"How many times did you need to ask the guy to stop and give you a chance to recover, though?" He smiled again.

Fuck! But what could she do? "I didn't, not once. Ask Chibs, he was with me the entire time." But the tattoo didn't exist for her right now, she couldn't really even feel the stinging of the skin beneath the gauze pad…she was desperate to know about Tig and Opie, and she made sure that still showed in her voice, and her stare.

"Really?" Tig asked, like he'd be checking out her story. "Damn baby, that looks like it was a lotta ink to get, right there, in all one sitting."

"It was," she agreed, and was beginning to see she should give up; Tig wasn't ready to talk about this, not now…maybe not ever.

"So let's see it," he smiled again, and beckoned to her with his index finger. "C'mere."

"Tig!" Joss stamped her foot, shoulders stooping and an exasperated sound huffing out of her…but immediately after she froze…fuck…she'd made it clear she wanted to talk about something other than her tattoo, and now she really was in trouble!

"Jesus fucking Christ, Joss!" Tig shouted now, getting to his feet and slamming his beer bottle into the ground, only seeming to be more frustrated when it bounced slightly on the grass instead of shattering the way he'd wanted it to, or needed it to. "I didn't ask you to come running out here to check up on me like I'm a God damn four year old with a box of matches! Don't stand there like I owe you a fucking explanation! I don't!"

Now she noticed how busted up and red the knuckles on both his hands were from his previous fights that day…great…she had to pick the day that he was in the worst mood he'd been in for quite awhile to have an attitude with him about something? But she wasn't able to help it…so much was riding on this…was it okay to talk to Opie? Was he dead? Was he alive? What the hell was she supposed to do? And what was Tig going to do? "I know," she said, trying to make this right now, trying to sound calm, but Jesus, she really wanted to know what was going on with him and Ope! Just because it sounded like things were okay, didn't mean they were! "I'm sorry, Tig, I am! But you know why I'm worried."

Tig sighed, looked away from her a moment, arms akimbo. "I know," he said, without yelling this time, but after another breath, his voice had amped up a bit again. "I need space with this Joss! You can't come rushing into this shit between Ope and me, because I don't want you in it yet, okay?"

Joss nodded submissively; at least he was saying…something about it now. "Okay," she said, "I understand that, and I'm sorry, but," she paused, she had to ask this, she had to know this…but was asking it such a good idea? "Can you at least tell me if something's wrong?"

Tig hissed his frustration at her furthering questions, then looked around the tent for something to punch or break or demolish, but there wasn't much in it that fit the bill. He shook his head, gritted his teeth, a vein beginning to pulse in his neck…Joss felt herself ducking inwardly, though she knew Tig wouldn't hurt her. "Holy hell, I am not going to make it through this weekend without having to fucking kill someone!" He roared, and then swung an angry paw at the camping chairs, knocking them both over like dominos, but then turned away from her and shook himself, took another deep breath, and turned back to her, still trying to collect himself. "I can't tell you if anything's wrong yet, Joss." He finally said, his irritation still showing in his voice, though he wasn't exactly yelling anymore. "You remember when you were telling me you 'don't know how I do it?' Well right now, I don't fucking know either, cuz I'm still trying to get this figured out, still trying to get Ope figured out…but it's not going to happen in a day or two, it's going to take a lot of…I don't even know what, to fucking get this figured out!"

Oh no…now Joss felt so awful, she was obviously rushing him on something that she had no business even knowing about…just because it may have been hard for her didn't mean that Tig could come up with an answer any sooner than he'd be able to come up with it. He was trying…but so was she…damn…this would all be so much easier to understand, and be patient with if he'd just tell her what happened between he and Opie. Joss had a fair idea, but she wasn't certain, there were pieces missing, and without having them, this was a puzzle she'd never be able to put together and feel secure about. "I'm sorry," she said again, and this time, she really felt that she was, but she wanted him to understand. "I don't mean to be putting pressure on you, really I don't…but I do have to look to you for everything, and I know there's pressure on you in that alone, but, Tig, when you—" hmm, she'd maybe better not say what she'd planned on saying…but then again, if she were distracted, her man was distracted, and the club was distracted. Joss took a deep breath and steadied herself. "When you shut me out of things, it makes me worry."

"Fuck," Tig sighed, and kicked meekly at the downed camping chair, then looked up at her, like he understood about making her worry as much as Joss felt that she was sorry for putting undue, and unrealized, pressure on him. "C'mere." He said again. Not many people would have willingly done so, knowing Tig and the day he was having, but Joss stepped over to him stalwartly, yet still submissively. "Look at me," he told her, and she did, Tig's hands framing her face next, and then he kissed her. "That's because I—" and all of sudden he cut himself off, "because you are what you are to me," Joss smiled a bit, knowing what he'd almost said, and not at all surprised he'd pulled it at the last minute when the words flashed in his mind. "And because I want you to know that I'm not trying to shut you out. I don't think I can really do that anyway, I've been trying to for two fucking years, and it's worked so well, you're my old lady now!" He said as if complaining fiercely, and he was a little, but Joss's slight smile remained, threatening to turn into giggles. "But I need space with this Opie thing, baby. I understand that you're concerned, and I understand that you wanna be there for me…hell, I already fucking saw what you'd do anyone you thought was trying to hurt me, or us, and believe me, baby, it gets me hot as hell, too…but, this thing with me and Ope, it ain't your shit. And I'm begging you, please, give me the time to feel all this out, so I will know if it's okay or not. And until I do know, you just love me, and I'll do the same for you, and I swear to God, Joss, I won't let anyone hurt you!"

Joss felt tears in her eyes…shit…but no one had ever said and done so many things that made them appear there in such a wonderful way like Tig did. "I know," she said, and the let him pull her close, her palms flat on his chest, and this time Tig didn't allow her arms or hands any further than that, but she'd known not to expect him to. "And I do love you."

"I know you do," he said, and pulled her a little closer, laying his cheek on top of her head.

"And I am sorry, too." She added, snuggling in a little more against his strong, broad chest.

"I'm gettin' fuckin' sick of hearing you say that, so stop it." He ordered sternly, but still held her and rested his cheek to her head. Joss just smiled, he was unhappy today in general, and plus, he was Tig. They were both quiet a few more seconds, Tig pulling her a little closer and a little closer, finally kissing her again, and again, and again…all the fires were damn near lit for them to go and seal themselves up from the rest of the world and just be…together…but of course with the fucking CBA's, they couldn't exactly to that. Tig sighed, raised his head and looked down at her. "So," he half smiled, realizing that he was only going to be starting something that couldn't be properly finished if he continued kissing her. "Let's see the ink!"

Fuck! Joss had been there in his arms and feeling her side and belly burning, but she'd forgotten all about it! But now she smiled, these were much better conditions under which to reveal her Tig-tribute tattoo! "It's a little bigger than I told you it would be," she admitted as she pushed her patch back and then carefully peeled back the adhesive tape on her skin, hoping that she wasn't going to see blood when she did, because her skin sure felt like it should be bleeding. But as the gauze folded back, it was clean, all was as it should have been, it was just tender, like it should have been.

Tig's beautiful blue immediately were on the ink, studying every detail, smiling a little, putting his hands on her hips and turning her a bit so he could see the whole thing, and he smiled a bit more, but then shook it from his features and looked at her unimpressed. "It's a cat."

"It's more than just a cat!" Joss replied, having seen him smile already, but knowing he didn't want to show that he liked it, that he did see himself in the ink on her body, just like she'd promised, but he really was touched, that was obvious, he couldn't take his eyes off of the "cat."

"It's nice," Tig finally said, still looking at it, and staring at the tiger's teeth now, and the way it was nuzzling her body, marking her and ready to protect her from anything. "But it's not me," he said, looking up at her, then he kind of smirked, looking back down at the ink again. "Go back and get a minus sign with an 'E' and an 'R!'"


	59. Cutting Losses

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 59

"Please don't come out of there in handcuffs…" Joss prayed, standing outside the make-shift police station at the CBA's. It was dark, likely after three in the morning, and it was just her and Opie…which was wrong…maybe…it had to be…it just had to be, even though Tig had yet to give her any official instructions…all he'd done was hand her a gun and said, "I won't get in your way this time," and Joss did have her gun…but really, what was she supposed to do? Both she and Ope stared together at the little shed-hut kind of building that Tig was currently being held within for questioning, asinine light and siren equipped golf carts parked outside of it. Shit…this could really make what was already a bad weekend for Tig much much worse! He was right though, he shouldn't have been allowed around civilians…or wannabes.

Not that the guy didn't deserve it…Joss was with Tig, walking back to his bike to head home, it was dark, Tig's arm around her waist, and his patch on her back, there was no way that anyone who saw them couldn't have known who she belonged to, it was more than clear. But there just wasn't enough deterrent in the world for stupid! Maybe the asshole was drunk, it was a good possibility, but really, that didn't make it okay anyway…wannabes…nothing could have proven more that the asshole definitely was not one percent like directly violating Joss's patch, and grabbing her ass! It had been such a shock that Joss had actually screamed, but more out of anger than anything else, but a scream was a scream, and it likely hadn't helped things. It was not only Tig's right, but also his duty, to react, to protect what was his, but the way he did and what he did to the wannabe…well, that was just the misfortune of having touched Tig's old lady…Tig immediately grabbed his knife and spun around on the guy, knocking him down, and as the ass-grabber began to plead and blubber, that's when Tig had noticed the same thing Joss had noticed…there on the wannabe's forearm, the ultimate disrespect…a diamond shaped tat, with a number one and a percent sign within it.

Tig lost it, commenced living up to every bit of the name and rep he'd fixed for himself, and before Joss knew it, her man slashed the blade of his knife across the wannabe's elbow, the asshole screaming, Tig's foot going to his neck and standing squarely on it until he shut up, then Tig slashed at the arm again, hacking through muscle, tendon, cartilage, ligament…all the way through, slipping the blade cleanly through the joint and pulling on the hand below the offending ink, slicing and slicing with his knife, until Joss heard a sickening "pop" and Tig arose, standing straight, holding the fingers of the hand, attached to the arm that was no longer attached to the wannabe.

Tig fought to catch his breath, shook the blood from his knife then held the arm, unwarranted one percent tattoo and all, up to her, his eyes still crazed, but he knew all that was happening and all that he was doing. "This the one he touched you with, baby? Or I gotta take the other one too?"

But Joss was too shocked to speak…fuck…if she did something like that to someone, she wouldn't be able to talk right now, she'd still be screeching and wailing and flailing around…but Tig? He was in total control! And he'd just cut a man's fucking arm off! Oh God! What happened now? Opie, that's what happened, appearing from the SAMCRO tent, gun drawn, checking the area, instantly seeing Tig, her and the mess on the ground, a severed arm in Tig's grasp.

"Shit," Joss had heard Ope grunt, then he ran over to where she and Tig were, and somehow, likely given Tig's obvious attitude towards civilians, Opie knew all. The wannabe was coughing and choking on the ground, trying to scream now and get to his feet, about to draw a lot of attention to something that had actually gone down rather unnoticed…but then, there had been a reason for why Clay had put the SAMCRO "camp" so far away from the front door of the CBA's. Tig still faced Joss, still holding the severed arm by the fingers, he wanted to know he'd done right by her, and she was nodding, still trying to process it all when two close range shots from Opie's gun made her flinch a little and look up in time to see Ope drawing his weapon away from the wannabe's head, who now lay silently still on the ground. Opie looked up first at her, then at Tig. "What happened?" He asked him then snuck a glance in at her. "Joss okay?"

Tig stiffened, closed his eyes a moment, looking like Opie had just asked something that he'd been telling him never to ask. "She's good," he answered, without looking at Ope, just looked back and Joss and softened his features as he spoke to her. "It's okay," he whispered, trying to keep his words from Ope, reaching out and taking her hand in the one that wasn't still holding the fingers of the severed arm. "You don't deserve to be treated like that, and you won't be!"

Joss nodded, but glanced down at the arm Tig was still holding, blood seeping from it, the color draining from the hairy skin and the one percent ink. He definitely knew how to dismember though, the cut was as clean as if a butcher had taken the shank end ham off of a pig…thoughts of her father crossed Joss's mind and she smiled up at her man. "I love you," she said to him quietly, then remembered Opie was nearby, she placed both of her hands on Tig's chest and stepped closer to him. "I love you more than anything!" She said, louder this time, and raised herself up on her toes to kiss him, Tig not sure he wanted it at the moment, but as soon as her lips touched his, he dropped the severed arm and wrapped his hand around the back of her head, turning a quick peck into something reserved for Hollywood endings.

Opie looked like he was recalling that particular scene now as they stood here by his bike, and Joss tried not to study his frown, or the heartache in his eyes; she focused on the little police station, waiting, hoping Tig would appear, unescorted. No one knew anything, it was the asshole's friends who had gotten concerned when their buddy hadn't returned to their camp, and they all knew he'd apparently said something about going to go "check out that piece of SAMCRO ass one more time," after which he'd disappeared. Lodi, being Lodi and not Charming, had their authorities all over that disappearance, even though it had been much less than the forty-eight hours usually required before any investigation had begun, but that was purely because an MC had been named in the disappearance.

"What did you do with him?" Joss asked Opie, still not sure if she had the go ahead to talk to him or not, but right now, he was all she had, and he'd been there for her too…trying to offer her a ride on the back of his bike over to the police station where Tig had been taken, but Joss had only shook her head, saying nothing then. But Ope had understood, and still wasn't about to let her walk over there alone, in the dark, and he'd driven beside her, at the slowest pace he could, illuminating the way for both of them with the lights on his bike. Clay had been informed of the possible trouble, and he was on the phone with lawyers already, and Charming PD, getting everything in order, just incase. The rest of the club would be here soon, when they knew something, no one would come until they had legal muscle to deal out. Tig was already in the "custody" of the authorities, there was no busting in and getting him out; they'd wait for the lawyers, but they would come. However at the moment, it was only Joss and Ope who waited.

"The woods over there," Opie looked off in the direction he spoke of. "Lot's of underbrush and some fallen limbs, lots of sticker bushes," he said. "No one's going through there; it'll take a lot to find anything."

Joss nodded. "Thank you," she said, because it was due to Opie to hear that, he hadn't had to 'take care of business,' but he had, leaving she and Tig to be together and do whatever consoling he figured they'd needed to. They should have just gone home then, not stuck around necking on his bike again and feeling each other up…but it had been what they'd needed, contact with the other, a few moments of uninterrupted closeness…that had ended with the authorities finding them, finding Tig. It was a heart wrenching thought that she and her man might ever be separated, but having been faced with it amidst such passionate and physically expressed devotion that flowed like their very own energy between one another, that each needed to live, was unbelievably horrific; Joss would have put it on the scale of how photos from Nazi concentration camps made her feel…being apart from her man, losing him, it would be that awful combination of anger, despair, fear and heart break. It already was, Joss had been okay earlier tonight…but now, she really was in need of some consoling, feeling herself starting to gear up…or down…thoughts of shooting her way into that little police station and just letting lose her beast, and getting her man back, ever increasing in her head…she was so scared, and she loved Tig so much! "He can't leave me," she said, and began to feel tears in her eyes, but tried hard not to let them show in front of Ope. "He can't be arrested for this!"

"If he is, we'll raise bond, then make the charges go away." Ope promised without looking at her, just staring at the station "house," or so Joss thought, but when she happened to look towards him, she noticed he was quickly turning his eyes away from her. He'd been watching her, seeing her budding tears, saying anything he could think of that might stop them.

"And how much is bail going to be for something like this?" Joss asked, really needing to have an answer, though she knew Opie likely didn't have a clear idea of how much, and she probably shouldn't have been relying on him, of all of Tig's brothers, right now. He was, for the most part, just trying to say what she wanted to hear, anyway.

"Doesn't matter," Ope replied, and looked at her again. "He's a brother, we'll make it work."

All of a sudden Joss realized she was looking back at Opie as well, eye to eye, her heart pounding, but Tig was her every thought. "Please tell me you're not just saying that." She begged, and more tears pushed at the dam of her eyes.

Opie still looked at her, didn't nod, didn't squint; didn't move at all. "You love him that much?"

For some reason, she didn't want to answer that, but she of course did. Now was as good a time as any to reinforce what her feelings were for Tig. "He's not easy to get along with, he's not loveable, or even all that compassionate; he's never even said to me that he loves me, but that's okay, I don't care about that. He's mine, and I'm his, and maybe one day he'll bite down hard enough to tear out a piece of me, and swallow it…and if he does, I'll let him, because I understand what he needs, and I need him the same way."

Opie said nothing in response; he looked downwards, toyed with the knife on his hip a little then sighed. "You know that if that day does ever come, that he hurts you, and you can't stand it anymore—"

"Ope, No!" Joss's voice was strong and so was the way she stood there, shaking her head, despite how submerged in icy water she suddenly felt. No, she didn't want to hear any words of attachment or commitment from Ope, he wouldn't be the one who waited for her in the wings…no, it would never be like that.

"Yes," he said, standing there just as strong, unstoppable in what he intended to say. "I don't know why this shit happens," he said, so careful in how he kept his hands to himself, but he was a master at "not really doing anything" after all. "I know you love Tig, and I respect that, I do, even if you don't believe it when I say so. But I mean it, Joss, I'm here, I'm waiting, and I'm not going to be cool with it if he ever does hurt you in a way you can't handle."

"And yet you think you can handle me?" Joss was more agitated now, felt like she was rushing around in this conversation, hurriedly locking doors and windows and sealing up any other places she feared Opie might somehow be able to "get in." "You know what I am, you saw it. You can't handle me, Ope. Trust me on that one."

"I saw love and fidelity being fought for brazenly and with no apologies," he replied. "I may hang with Jax, but not every one of our thoughts about shit is the same." Opie paused a moment, Joss too stunned to speak as he did, too startled that he'd seen what Tig had seen when she'd taken that wrench to Stahl. She wished she could deny it, but she couldn't, Opie did understand, but now he seemed to be struggling with something else, some other part of this puzzle that Joss couldn't predict existed. "You may have saved Tig, but you have no way of knowing how you saved me with him."

"She didn't shoot you," Joss reminded, trying to find anyway she could to distance herself and her deed from Ope.

"No," Ope agreed. "But my wife's dead because of her, and when I had the chance to even that score, I let it slip." He said, looking off again, his eyes a bit glassy as well. "But you? You didn't let anything slip; you didn't care about mercy, you cared about Tig. You got in there and made right a wrong, for both of us. You freed me, and because of that," Opie looked back at her, his eyes so heavily, yet steadily, on hers that it made Joss gasp. "I'm here…waiting for you."

Joss's heart raced, this truth was awful…but powerful…she held another heart in her hands, and the responsibility was mind-crushing. Why was he doing this? She didn't want to hurt him! "Ope," she felt a tear run down from her eye and she shook her head. "I can't."

"I know," he nodded, and looked down again. "And Stahl may have put Donna in the firing line, but it was your old man who killed her…under the assumption that it was me he was shooting at…Stahl made me look like rat, Clay did the planning, Tig did the shooting, and Donna? She did the dying."

Now Joss was silent, so silent and so…fixedly terrified of what she'd already known…all the clues had been there, but now, the puzzle was complete. She started to feel dizzy, the dark was getting darker…and then she realized that some time had passed and she hadn't taken a breath, doing so now as if she were suddenly pulled out from beneath violent waves that threatened to keep her under, and there were more tears spilling from her eyes now…she looked at Opie, weeping openly and shaking her head. "I know," she could barely force out the words…and she knew there was nothing she could say that would make this right.

"It's not your fault," Ope said, still looking down. "But I still thought you should know, because I want you to know where I'm coming from, you need to know what you did for me, and you need to know how much I hate this…poetic justice of wanting what's Tig's."

"Then stop!" Joss cried, feeling as though someone had reached insid her chest and was squeezing every drop of blood out of her heart. "Please!"

Opie looked up shaking his head, staring at her sadly; his eyes moving everywhere on her face, the faceted green gems within the black Egyptian Princess frames, her mouth, her skin, taking all of her in that he could. "I wish I could," he said, and then he finally did something, raising his hand and gently laying it to the side of her face, his littlest finger softly behind her ear, his thumb lovingly stroking her chin, and his remaining fingers spanning her cheek and jaw, pressing lightly into the softness and caressing all that he held. "But I can't stop; I'm here." He said again, looking at her in a manner that only seemed to get deeper and deeper, "I loved Donna, she was a beautiful woman, a good mother…but the sad reality is that if she were a little more like you, she'd still be here."

Joss trembled and tried to look away, "don't—" she began to say, so aware of Opie's racing heart in his touch, trying to not feel it, trying to ignore how he touched her, but then she couldn't ignore it or him, his beard brushing her face and lips as his mouth pressed to hers, his other arm enveloping her and holding her tightly to him, the hand that held her face slipping away to join in the embrace of her, his taste more than on her lips now, strange and different, but ever increasing. Joss felt some part of her concede this one small victory to him, letting his tongue find hers and meet briefly, his hands moving up and down her back, lavishing in touching her and feeling her, though her arms remained at her sides. She felt him start to pull away and tried to herself, but no, Opie only tilted his head the other direction and deepened the kiss again, like trying to get all that he could here and now, leaning her back against his bike as soon as Joss had felt herself getting dizzy again, unable to believe this was really happening, that it wasn't a fitful dream this time. She owed him nothing, but he was still taking it…or was she giving it? No! She jerked her head away from his sharply and looked off over her shoulder, making him stop.

Ope gasped and sighed all in one, his arms slowly releasing her, but Joss didn't look at him, she couldn't. "That had to happen," he said. "And so does this," she braced herself for some other physical…encounter, but Ope drew back from her completely, stuck his hand into his pocket and pulled out something that he pressed into her hand, pulled her away from his bike, getting on, and giving her one last look as he started the Harley Dyna, and then sped away.

What…no, she knew what…it was the last attempt of a desperate man, so spurred on by his grief, his hatred and his desire that in that one weak moment, he'd taken a chance, he'd gone after what he wanted, what he needed…what he knew he'd only have that one, perfect time…this was not the start of something, it had lasted far too long and become too intense; had Opie been planning to kiss her again, or do more than kiss her, he never would have poured out all that he had into that one. It was a kiss goodbye; he'd said what he'd wanted to say, he'd made sure she understood, and they'd had their one moment…and now they would go their separate ways…even if he was still there, waiting.

There was something in her hand, and Joss had some vague memory of Ope tucking something against her palm. She looked down, opening her fingers, and finding a Ten Patch staring back at her. He'd presented her with her award, for Stahl…no, for Donna, in her honor. It was over, at least for Ope and her; he and Tig would need more time, much more time, but for she and Ope, yeah, it had come to its head and now it would remain hidden, but something in Joss made her reach inside her patch and grab the Glock from her pocket, taking a deep breath as she extended it out in front of her, her stance perfect, as was her aim, the end sight square on the back of Opie's head as he drove away in the dark…but she just stood there, watching him drive further and further away…tears rolling down her cheeks as she did, but she wasn't sure why she was crying, or even where she was anymore…until a voice reminded her.

"Why didn't you take the shot?" The question was asked calmly, the voice didn't sound angry, but it was serious…and it was also Tig's.


	60. Seraphim

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 60

"Are you coming?" Joss's back was to him once more as she tried to walk off towards the woods, hoping he'd follow her again, but Tig wasn't ready to, there were a lot things to be said still. That walk from the fucking police station over to the bike had been long and silent enough, Tig walking aimlessly, trying to get his thoughts together, reconcile what he felt with what he'd seen and what he would do next, while Joss followed behind him. The only one of them to speak had been her, and when she did, it was obvious that she had a plan.

"Opie said there's lots of underbrush, lots of briars and brambles over there," she looked towards the woods then looked back at Tig who listened like this was all a dream. "It's not a place where people are likely to go hiking and stumble across anything you'd rather keep hidden, and the brush itself keeps secrets." He saw her tremble as she finished that sentence, closing her clear green tearful eyes and swallowing hard, then shoved the Glock into his hand. "Come on." But Tig had been too…astonished to move, and still was. She was right, this was it, everything that needed to happen had happened and the setting was perfect.

"Joss," he stood there in a state of controlled and calm agitation that was so bizarre for anyone, particularly him. Was he really going to do this? Opie kissed Tig's property, and that was grounds, man…he'd earned a bullet now, fair and square; and so had Joss. She wanted this over with, he knew she could feel all of what he'd witnessed between her and Ope simmering under the surface of his staggering emotions; how could she not? He and that damn girl were so close, that if someone tapped her on the shoulder, Tig turned around. And Joss was trying anything she could to get the anger and the hurt and the betrayal to burst out of him so they could have this ordeal come to an end and be done, so she didn't have to anticipate it any longer…the anticipation likely was far worse than the dying. But she couldn't die…or was it only that Tig couldn't kill her? Fuck, she was making it easy enough for him. But he loved her…and there was so much he still needed to know before he would pull any trigger. "Tell me why you didn't shoot him."

She couldn't know what it was that staggered inside him, because Tig didn't understand it himself. She had absolutely no concept of why he wasn't following her…again. But Tig was slowly turning this over in his quake-ravaged mind, and it kept turning into his past…he'd earned a bullet…one misplaced kiss, that hadn't been rebuffed, one odd, half opened mouth bit of contact when all he'd meant to do was lend a little comfort to Gemma…following her back to her bedroom closet to get that hat box full of guns off the top shelf had been stupid, he knew it when he'd done it, but it was the first conscious decision he'd made up to that point that morning, knowing full well where it might lead…and it had…he'd never quite understood how he'd gone from kissing Gemma so wantonly, like she was the stuff of dreams, which for Tig at the time, she was; but despite that, he'd grabbed her shoulder and roughly flipped her against the wall where she couldn't see him and he couldn't see her. With the feelings he'd suspected he had for her, he'd always imagined facing her if they ever fucked…but no, when the chance to was there, he'd turned her away from him…like he did with all the others, except Joss.

Joss turned back again, but she didn't move towards him, trying so hard to get him to follow her into the trees, deep into the trees. "It doesn't matter why I didn't shoot him, and you know it," she said almost as if she wasn't as heartbroken and frenzied as he knew she was. "The sun'll be coming up soon, come on. You're losing your darkness."

Fuck…was he? "Joss, I want a God damn answer!" Tig let some of the anger that was pushing out from the inside show as he growled, but he didn't move. If he moved towards her, she'd only continue on into the woods, and he'd do anything to not have to go in there with her, not ever. "Get fucking back here, now!"

"Tig! Please!" She stood there like she was angry now, and maybe she was, he was prolonging this…and he wasn't even sure about doing it. He loved her, and so much inside of him kept telling him that this didn't have to happen, that she'd done nothing to deserve this. She still loved him, she was still his, she wouldn't be submitting like this if she didn't still love him, and if she didn't still see herself as his…it was his right to take her out if she messed with another man…she wasn't denying it…she was about to accept the punishment she knew she was due…if she didn't love him, why would else would she be trusting him enough…to kill her? No…he had to know, she had to tell him "why" so he didn't have to do this. He had no idea, and didn't want to, if Gemma had ever 'fessed up to Clay about what happened between her and Tig…he doubted it, Clay would have killed him; as far as Clay saw it, loyalty was loyalty, brotherhood was brotherhood, but betrayal was betrayal.

Tig lived, so did Gemma…Gemma who hadn't stopped him, Gemma who had turned around and grasped at the shirt she'd torn open the instant Tig had backed off, Tig who had remembered what Gemma was, knowing what she had to remain, and feeling all of his faithfulness and love for Clay in one instant detonation that killed every ounce of desire in him for Gemma on the spot. He had been the one who stopped, it was the most conscious decision he'd made that morning, more conscious and more prominent than his decision to follow her into the bedroom…Gemma hadn't stopped him, he'd stopped, and if he hadn't, it would have happened…Gemma…he didn't love her, never did. But Joss, she'd turned away from Opie, he'd seen her do it, whipping her head away so wildly and suddenly that it had likely tweaked something in her neck. She'd told Ope everything she should have said, she needed Tig, she "couldn't," because she loved Tig…she'd stopped…and after Opie had told her everything about Donna, laid what in Joss's mind would have been some kind of major league guilt trip on her that she'd have blamed herself for…she'd tried to kill Ope herself, that couldn't have helped that over developed sense of conscience she had either, and she should have been too weak with her want to make it right by giving into Opie, by putting her arms around him, by doing what Gemma had done, and been willing to do.

Jesus fucking Christ, Tig had always warned Joss about "doing that shit she always did," he knew it would only get her into trouble, but he'd never predicted it could have been like this, with Ope…but that was where it had taken her…she'd pulled herself away from the blame of the doctor bitch situation, and God fucking damn it if she hadn't done the same here…she cried for Ope over Donna tonight, but she gave him nothing for his pain. Tig's little angel had stood strong, and faithfully, even in the face of Tig's own demon. Fuck…an awesome dizziness descended upon Tig as he realized something he was never prepared to even consider, but his world was changing and so were his perceptions of the people in it. Joss had done what Gemma had failed to; there was a woman in the world fiercer, stronger and more loyal than Gemma…and she was his Joss! Fuck! Gemma had faced her test and failed, late in this life Gemma'd been faced with it, with decades of experience in her blood and her soul, and she'd failed! But Joss…fuck, the word "teen" still appeared in the age she was, but she'd passed that test! What would Joss be in ten more years; in twenty? If Clay meant it, if this club was Tig's when he was out…shit…then Tig had a queen behind him so much more powerful than her legendary predecessor.

Before Tig knew it he was walking towards Joss, which of course had Joss walking too, even faster now towards the fucking woods. She was ready…she'd fucked up, she knew the game, she knew the penalty, and she wouldn't argue it or expect that Tig would see her as anything other than the property she was…she'd fucked up, she wasn't special any longer, she'd hurt him, and she wanted him to hurt her. But no, none of that could have been further from the truth, or from Tig's thoughts. She was running now, nearly to the edge of the damn woods, stopping and looking into them, shivering with a chill that wasn't in the air. "God damn it! Joss! Stop!"

She remained still, looking back over her shoulder briefly, likely surprised that he wasn't yelling and shouting more than he was. But then she looked back at the woods again…like trying to find the best way into them through all the sticker bushes and downed limbs and fallen dead trees…looking for a place she'd like to lay down, forever. "He's in here, somewhere, too." She said, looking over her shoulder at Tig again, and starting to cry a little more. "I just don't want to be next him, okay?"

Jesus Christ…Tig couldn't even speak…as if he'd even think of putting her anywhere near some fucking wannabe; Joss was royalty of royalty in this life, and for the rest of Tig's life he'd be keeping shit like that away from her. He'd always protect her, from everything, including himself; he'd made himself promise not to give into the storms of avarice that were forever forming within him. He'd made himself swear he wouldn't jump to conclusions without hearing her out first, no matter how something may have looked. He'd upheld that promise to himself this time, and at the moment when he'd have needed no more provocation to drag her deep into those woods…and walk out alone. But no, he'd held back, held off, held himself together, Joss the one who was willingly kneeling down in front of him, putting that gun to her head…she was sorry, she wasn't begging for another chance, she'd considered what she'd done unforgiveable, and she was doing the only thing she knew how to save face for him. That she was so willingly submitting to her own death…fuck…it just made Tig want to protect her more, and his blood spread through his veins with the fire of any other battle, despite how he'd meant to prevent harm, not cause it. "Sit down, and shut the fuck up!" He ordered sternly, standing still, about ten feet from her, but knowing if he tried to close the distance between them, she'd only go further into the God damn woods.

Joss complied, facing him even as she collapsed against the ground, but then she looked down. Tig stumbled forward a bit; the closer he came to her, the more afraid of what he could have done to her, of what the code of this life had procured him the right to perpetrate. He fell to his knees in front of her, sliding the Glock into the waistband of his jeans. "Look at me," he told her, and this time reached out and grabbed her black fringe bangs, pulling them back and forcing her head up. "Why didn't you shoot him?" He asked again. "Answer me!"

He'd expected her next words to be turned on herself, that it was her fault; that would have been Joss's logic; she couldn't shoot Opie for something she'd allowed him to do, even though it had been evident to Tig that she hadn't invited such liberties to be taken. "I belong to you," she said. "It's not my place. It wasn't my place before, either."

Tig nodded. "You're right about that," he said, though until now, he hadn't fully considered it…Joss had no right to decide to kill Opie when she'd decided to weeks ago…that damn girl was more than capable of taking care of herself, Tig no longer doubted that, but in the eyes of the club, in the eyes of the life, it was his obligation to protect what they had and what they were, as well as her honor…not Joss's. Shooting Ope tonight would have vindicated her of any cooperation with him, but it would have left Tig looking derelict in his responsibilities. Joss…even at eighteen years old, she knew this life forwards and backwards, and she was growing and learning within it, realizing what was her shit and what was his. Isn't that what he'd tried to explain to her earlier today? "You think I should kill you?"

"I think too much," she said, looking at his face, but not at his eyes, and Tig didn't make her, not yet. "Isn't that what you told me once?"

"You love him?" Tig asked next, calmly, even though he already knew her answer. He let go of her hair and moved his hand down around to her chin, and this time did lift her head up until her eyes were on his.

"Of course not," she said, plainly, no emphasis, no attitude, nothing that revealed anything about how she was trying to "make" him believe it because it wasn't a true statement. She was shaking, he could feel her doing so, but she wasn't scared, was holding up to this in a way he'd never really seen before, though she knew she had no hopes of changing the outcome she'd predicted. "But there's another reason I didn't pull the trigger."

There was more? About Opie? No! Tig hadn't expected there to be more, and he was afraid to ask, but he knew he had to. "Why?" Jesus fucking Christ, if she thought she was going to die before the sun rose in the next few minutes, why didn't she just take a few secrets with her? But she didn't love Ope, where the hell could she be going with this? Donna…she'd let Opie live so he could forever be around to remind Tig of Donna? "Please, little girl…" Tig suddenly realized he was speaking. "Don't tell me—"

"You need to know," she said, shaking her head, and her tears had diminished, she sat there in front of him so sturdily it made Tig sickeningly curious. "I promised Clay I'd say nothing, and I won't, not even now. But, Opie loves this club, and he's got a place in its future, he's an honorable man; he's not Jax, no matter how much Jax may try to make him look like he is. Ope sees things a little differently from the way you do, but that's exactly what you're going to need one day, Tig."

Chapter 60; Part 2

"Oh shit!" Joss awoke to the sound of the tent flap zipping open, then zipping furiously closed as someone ducked back out of it again in some major rush. "Oh man…I'm really sorry!" Sack stood outside now, averting his eyes. "Fuck…why does this always happen to me?"

She wasn't exactly sure what that meant, but just the way Sack had reacted to walking in on her lying naked in Tig's arms was enough to make her laugh. She and Tig weren't supposed to have been there, but they'd never made it home last night. Last night…she'd always known Tig wouldn't hurt her, not even when he should have and he didn't, not even after she'd tried to make him do so. She'd never loved a man more than she loved him, and no man had ever loved her more either.

They'd gotten as far as the tent, after they'd left the tree line…the tree line that Joss never wished to see again, and before she knew it, she and Tig were inside the black and silver tent, and he was kissing her with no end in sight…the sun rising outside as he…made love to her like he'd been on the verge of losing her forever...which she thought he had…but Tig, true to form, just when he seemed to become predictable, did the unthinkable. He loved her, enough to believe her, enough to forgive her, enough to want to be with her forever, and as Joss began to understand now, he loved her too much to even tell her; words just wouldn't be enough, and so he'd showed her, in the only way he really knew how. There had been a few sleeping bags in the tent, incase anyone had decided to stay overnight, but no one had, Lodi being so close to home that no one had really been willing to waste a night sleeping on the ground, in a tent…except for she and Tig…but that was purely accidental…and though they'd both curled up together in the same sleeping bag, there hadn't been a lot of sleeping.

Tig's love was so physical…loving her was wanting her, and Joss hadn't been in any stronger a state of mind, or heart, when he'd carried her in here, pulling off her clothes as he kissed her, letting her do the same to him, and for the longest time, they only kissed, naked body to naked body, every want and desire clear between them both, but it hadn't been about cumming or even fucking…it was about them and what each meant to the other, and what it did to them to be together. She'd been the first to experience that, in the chapel, astride Tig in Clay's chair, kissing him, feeling him, letting him flow through her veins, the man she loved, the man that loved her…and it happened again as this day had dawned, wrapped in Tig's arms, and his kiss, feeling herself shudder and buck against him as another climax wracked her body. It hadn't been long after that when her man had shuddered, kissed her with a locked jaw to prevent biting her harder than he ever had before, and let her close her arms over him and hold tightly, kissing his neck and tense jaw and lips, telling him she loved him, until she felt his cum christening her belly in hot, hard, spurts.

What it was that they felt for one another was never to likely be defined, and Joss didn't wish for it to be. It would lose its wildness and its freedom if it ever was named…it was like the life; seductive, but hard to handle, amazing, but dangerous, and beckoning, but it would tear the wrong people to tatters. The energy, the entity, the love…whatever it was, all Joss knew was that it was equal and balanced and yet, barely contained, between her and Tig, and it couldn't exist without them, just as they couldn't exist without it. That's all she had to know.

Despite the noises of the little tent city around them coming alive, and Sack's intrustion, Tig was still out, his arm around her shoulders, his big hand over her head, keeping her in place against his broad chest where he wanted her. But she had to get up…she was a mess after all the crying last night…fuck…was there maybe time to go home, shower and change her clothes before having to be out there, looking stunning and being sweet, one more time? Besides, if Sack were here, the rest certainly would be soon as well.

"Good morning, Half-Sack," Joss quietly called with a smile, looking at him through the screen of the tent flap. "What time is it?"

"It's around eight-thirty," He answered, still careful not to look into the tent. "Clay said to start setting up the chairs and put beer on ice…and the cooler's…uh…in with you guys."

"Oh, okay, don't worry about it." She said, relieved that there was indeed time to get home, get cleaned up and changed, and get back out here by the start of things at ten o'clock…well…maybe there was…if she could get Tig awake. "Tig," she said softly, but loudly enough to make him stir as she snuggled into him and kissed his chest. She loved this man so much…and he loved her…his love for her was stronger than his jealousy, and his need to appear a certain way to his brothers…but then, unless Opie talked, which she doubted he did, who knew anything had happened last night? Tig…she and he were safe, and solid. "Baby, wake up."

The only part of him that moved was his fingers, stroking through her hair. "Joss," he groaned, eyes still closed. "Baby, go back to sleep." He sort of mimicked, and when Joss glanced up, he was smirking a little.

"No, Tig come on…take me home so I can get ready to be out here again, please?" She asked, but lay her head back down against him again, listening to his heart and closing her eyes. He loved her…he'd never say it…but he loved her as much as she loved him. Whatever they were, it was going to withstand anything.

"Why?" He lay there asking, eyes never opening, but both his arms surrounding her now and squeezing tightly and moaning a little as her body pressed more and more into his. "I hate the fucking CBA's, Joss." He said, like it was the first time he'd announced it.

"Yeah? Well I hate not having a shower," she replied, and dragged her fingers through his chest hair, fighting the urge to trace his nipple with her fingertip; if she started touching what she knew now were trigger spots, she'd never get him out of this sleeping bag, or get out herself either. Hmm…another good toss with him sounded good though! But, so did a shower. "Particularly when I've got your…goo all over me," she giggled against his chest.

Tig's eye finally opened and he stretched and laughed. "You're hurtin' my feelings," he said to her with that same simpering grin. "That was some of my best stuff, little girl."

"Oooh man…" Sack was groaning outside the tent flap. "Look, you all just finish up with…with…just…hey, I'll be back later, alright?" Both Tig and Joss burst out laughing as they listened to Sack walking further and further away, but all of sudden, Sack turned and ran back to the tent, bending down against the tent flap again, but still so careful to not see anything inside. "'Scuse me, it's, uh, Sack again," he said, making Tig and Joss laugh some more. "I just thought I'd let you know that, well, uh, Joss, there's like some moist towelettes in there over by the grill stuff."

Joss looked at Tig, who looked back at her and again they both burst out laughing. "Sack!" Joss yelled, "The thoughts you're connecting are kinda obscene!" Tig snickered and pulled her head downwards and kissed her cheek.

"Sorry, ma'am, I didn't mean nothing by it, I was just trying—" Sack was stammering.

"Would you just go fuck yourself, prospect?" Tig yelled over Sack's floundering apology, and with a quivering "yes sir," Sack literally ran off, which again made Tig and Joss laugh, laying together, naked within the sleeping bag still. "'Moist towelette'," Tig repeated then sighed, glancing down at Joss. "Not a word you hear a whole lot of in our community, huh?"

Joss laughed and shook her head against his broad chest, "when you guys patch him in, change his name to that…you can call him 'MT' for short." Tig chuckled, then wrapped his arms around her again and hugged her to him, groaning again as he did, his hand on the back of her head beginning to stroke her long black hair, further and further down her back, into the sleeping bag, slowly over her rounded buttocks, finally cupping one firmly, then sitting up and leaning down enough to kiss her, sucking at her upper lip, then her lower, finally knotting her tongue with his. Joss closed her eyes and willed his fingers between her legs, about to shift her weight so that she could feel his dick harden against her ribs…but now wasn't the time…and it really did suck! "Tig," she said, a bit out of breath from the kiss she'd broken. "We have to get going," she said disappointedly. "I love your body, and I love you, but, come on," she knew she had to be the one to move, the one to start to sit up, even though there was a very good chance that Tig would pull her back down again and roll on top of her, but still, there were a lot of reasons they couldn't start going at it in the tent again, the first of which being that Sack would be returning. She lifted her head away from his and pushed off his chest a bit, trying to sit up, but as soon as she'd moved, she'd felt like something hooked her to him, and Tig immediately let out a bellowing "ow!"

"What the fuck?" He looked at her confusedly and accusingly as Joss looked downwards, trying to figure it out as well…noticing at once what it was…the adhesive tape holding the gauze pad on over her new tattoo…it must have come unpeeled enough last night while they were…all over each other…and as she'd lay against him, it had stuck itself to the hair on his chest.

"I'm sorry!" Joss tried to sound like she was, but she started laughing instead as she pointed to the tape, which now bore a small number of dark curly hairs on it. "I didn't realize—"

"Hey!" Tig laughed a bit too, but sort of whined, reaching out and pulling off a few of the hairs that were stuck there on the adhesive tape, then held them up to her. "Now put 'em back!" He loudly ordered, but couldn't exactly stop laughing.

Joss laughed even more, ending up leaning over him some as she tried to stop, Tig laughing also, but grabbing her as predicted, and tucking her beneath him as he got above her, laughing less as he began to kiss her neck, one arm around her, and the other clutching and squeezing her full breast.

Jesus…last night…only a few hours ago really, she'd been set to be shot in the head by him; and now, here they were…God, they were so fucked up! But it worked for them, and she dared anyone else to try it! "I really do love you," she said as he'd raised his head from her neck, having meant to kiss her mouth next.

"Then fuck me," he encouraged, smirking a little again and moving above her in even more encouragement, his big, hard cock jabbing at her thighs.

"You're not supposed to pressure me into proving my feelings for you," she jokingly admonished, both her hands on his shoulders and waiting to know where he wanted to be touched. "I saw it on an 'After School Special' once!" She giggled.

Tig laughed, but it gradually tapered off into an endearing look of adoration that Joss wasn't accustomed to, his hand leaving her breast to stroke her softly over her face. "You know you're something special, don't you?"

Joss smiled, feeling a little embarrassed, he'd never quite given her that kind of look, or compliment before. "I know I am to you," she answered, looking up at his eyes as his fingers traced her ear, then along her cheek.

"No," Tig shook his head, "I mean, you are, you definitely are," he said then kissed her softly lightly, but like he might not stop, tongue so soft and so gentle against hers, pulling away just when Joss was beginning to get into it, and continuing his thought. "But more than only that, Joss," he said, then sighed again and shook his head, that adoration still in his ice blue eyes. "You're…meant to be here," he said, though he looked disappointed with his words. "Shit," he half muttered, "just sometimes, I think you really are a fucking angel."

What? Did he know what he was saying, because he'd never said it before? "Let's hope not," Jesus…if she was angel then Heaven was one fucked up mental ward, or God was like some…really bad HR director.

Tig grimaced a bit then kissed her again, slowly, gently and still not long enough. "Look," he said, slipping both his arms around her to hold her even closer to his body. "I don't know how, I don't know when, but this thing with me and Ope," he paused like even though he was the one bringing it up, he still didn't want to discuss it, but he was, for her. "It'll be okay."

Author's Note: Hello, thank you for reading! I thought I should let you all know that we are quickly coming to a close with this story, and I thank all of you who have been reading! And all of you who have been brave enough, and kind enough, to comment, you are all my "angels!" To: Bad Company, Detzer, Fanficfan4Ever, FunnyMick, Cariad46, Phoenix1972, LiveFreeDieWell, Ozlady80, PeaceMusic71, Griftergirl7, Missiemeghan, Tie228, AlyKat4Life, RayRox, ., and Angel N Darkness, thank you all for making this story what it has been! You will never know to what depths you have inspired me to write this piece and make it become! I am thinking of doing a sequel to this story, and I welcome and encourage you to share any thoughts on that you may have. I am eager to try to show you my "thanks" in not only the writing of a sequel, but also by taking your "requests." If there is anything you would like to see happen in another "Tijo" story, please indicate whatever your idea or wish is in a review so I will know! Thank you again, and it has been a wonderful experience entertaining you all!


	61. Never Never Neverland

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 61

Joss was so…Tig sighed just thinking about it…he'd often thought of how beautiful she was, how intelligent she was, how sweet she was, how sensual and sultry and erotic she was, how crazy she was and how perfect it all made her, but God damn, today it was all really blowing him away. She was sitting there at the SAMCRO booth, biker boots, short shorts, flying her brand new tiger ink along her tiny waist and lusciously curving hip like it was her very own colors. The black reaper t-shirt she wore was pulled up and knotted between her big, gorgeous thirty-four double "D's," that were his, all his. Around her neck was her leather choker, the one that looked like a dog collar almost, with a little heart dangling from it that read, "Tig's," the dot over the "i" a tiny little heart. There was enough of a breeze to gently wisp her long, shiny black tresses behind her, the red devil's tails of it fluttering like butterfly wings. Her make-up was matte and perfect, lips sumptuously red, green eyes sparkling like two fire lit emeralds, the gaze of a Pharaoh's daughter settling mightily upon anyone she looked at. She was beautiful, too beautiful to be hanging around biker trash like him, or so he used to think. But that wasn't accurate, it wasn't anywhere close; she was perfect…perfect for this life, perfect for this club…perfect for him.

But she was missing something, and Tig could see from here that she was uncomfortable to not have it; she still had a majestic presence though, even if it was wasted on all these fucking civilians, but yeah, she was feeling how incomplete she was, but had Tig not known her so well, he never would have noticed. It was in her body language, she didn't sit up as straightly as she normally did, a bit reticent in her movements, she didn't dare lean towards anyone she spoke to, but she did hold her head up a little higher, trying to direct attention to the pendent at her neck. Bobby sat beside her, paying careful attention to every word that was said to her, and explaining for Joss that she wasn't doing photographs right now…and Tig knew why, she felt too naked. He could fix that, and he ignored the civilians and pushed past them into the CBA's, over to SAMCRO's booth.

Joss gasped when she looked up and saw him, so surprised that he'd come inside the gates, among the civilians and the three-piecers and the wannabes and the American Motorcycle Association…fucking Christ, Tig hated them all…but he loved Joss more. She'd just begun to smile up at him as he stepped over the tape that marked their ten by ten area of space, joining her and Bobby under the vinyl tent canopy, and that's when she'd seen what Tig carried, and she jumped up excitedly.

"It's done? I can have it back now?" Her eyes were on her patch; she was even reaching out for it with one hand, so eager to put it on again. She'd really been mopey on the way back here from getting showered and changed at the house, knowing Tig was going to be keeping the vest for a little while and she'd be without it until he was finished working on it for her, and that's why he'd sent Bobby to sit with her. Joss loved Bobby, that was evident the night she'd awarded the Ten Patch to him, she'd feel safe with him, and since Clay hadn't arrived yet, Tig had figured it was best to send her "uncle" with her until "daddy" would be here to sit with her at this fucking event. But Tig held what would help to soothe her a bit, and Joss's sparkling green eyes were still glued to her patch. "Please tell me you're finished doing…whatever you were doing!"

Tig chuckled a little, she was so damn cute. "Relax," he told her in his usual half bored, half annoyed tone. "I wouldn't take it away from you forever, little girl. You know that."

Bobby nodded and looked up at Tig like he'd been through enough. "Then please tell me you're done with it…you can't imagine the morning I've had sitting here."

Tig laughed a little then looked down at Joss, "You gettin' squirrelly, baby?"

"No," Bobby replied in place of Joss. "All fucking morning it's just been civilian prick after civilian prick all wanting her number, or her email, or her facebook…one guy kept insisting he'd seen her in 'Playboy,'…I ran that asshole off, he won't be back." Bobby promised, looking from Tig to Joss, and patting her reassuringly on the shoulder, but he looked back at Tig again. "I'm telling you, you put that patch on her, and don't ever let her take it off!"

Fuck…there it was again, that feeling that there was something Tig needed to say to Joss…shit…would he ever figure out what it was? Hadn't he said everything that he could say? That he would say? Shit, yeah, Tig had done some figuring out and some changing too, and Joss had been right there with him making her own way and shaping into the thing he needed most in this life, or any other, but fuck…what the hell was it he was supposed to say to her? He looked over at her now, shifting her weight on her feet and long, amazing legs, so anxious to have her patch back. "Thanks, Bobby." He said, but then shook his head at him. "But you were who suggested bringing her here, remember that?"

"Tig!" Joss squealed like she just couldn't wait anymore, like a kid in school who really needed to piss during a math test or some shit. She really wanted her patch. Bobby was still searching for a response, so Tig focused on Joss, who was subtly jumping up and down now.

"Okay," he started to laugh as he watched her; she looked like some hyper Chihuahua that felt so unloved without its collar on. But she'd never be unloved, never. "Here," he started to hand the vest over to her, Joss grabbing it and about to pull it from his hands when Tig remembered he was going to show her what he'd done to it for her, and he pulled it back from her grasp again, Joss whining as he did. "Just hold on, okay? It's alright; you can have it in a minute." He promised, and began to unfold it in his hands.

"I really really really really really…really don't like not having it!" Joss said assertively, looking on at her patch longingly.

"Really?" Tig smirked back, finally having it displayed in a way that she could see what work he'd done to it. "Look," he said and pointed to the inside center of the back, where he'd taken the Ten Patch that Opie had given to her and sewn it into the black satin lining.

Joss gasped again, she wasn't a patched member of SAMCRO; she never would be, it was absolutely impossible for her to wear any of their badges or patches, other than what appeared on her property patch itself. "I thought when you took that Ten Patch that you were going to give it back to him?"

Tig shook his head. "He wanted you to have it, and I think you should." He said, and while he wasn't as relaxed about where, who and how Joss had been "awarded" the patch, Tig did agree that she'd earned it. Shit…once again, he and Opie shared a similarity. "You can't wear it where it can be seen, but I say you can wear it, Joss. So, put it on."

But now she stood still, staring at the Ten Patch, her Ten Patch, and she didn't move even though Tig held the vest in position for her to turn around and slip her arms into it. She looked back at him now…fuck, did he screw up by doing this? "Tig," she said, and stepped closer to him, but didn't turn to be helped on with her patch, she just drew closer and closer to him, reaching up to smooth the his cheek with the back of her fingers, but Tig pulled away and shook his head, Joss immediately understanding, and remembering where they were and why he didn't want to be touched. She smiled her apology to him and then just sighed happily. "I love you," she whispered, and for as much as Tig used to hate hearing her say that, he smiled back.

"I know," he nodded, then stepped around behind her with the vest. "Now put it on," he told her, "before your fan-base gets anymore ideas."

Joss slipped her arms into her patch and sighed pleasantly as Tig slid it up squarely onto her shoulders, reaching around her waist to gather the long leather ties for her to cinch in and make the black leather hug every incredible curve of her body. She reached behind her, making sure all the bits of fringe that went up the princess seams on the back were straight, then double checked the fitted-ness of it. With everything secure, in so many ways, Joss turned around to him and smiled; everything about how much she loved about her patch, about wearing it, and about being Tig's, shining at him from within her peridot eyes.

"She is a beautiful girl." Bobby sighed, smiling almost proudly at Joss, but looking up at Tig. "You are one undeserving son of a bitch." He chuckled.

"Yeah," Tig agreed, but his eyes were on his dark, sweet, perfect little angel, who seemed to take no notice of the comments being made, but then, she knew she was safe; she could let her guard down. "That's my queen."

"I think we'd all gladly take a share a that," Bobby smiled, but Tig knew he'd meant nothing inappropriate. In fact, what Bobby had said couldn't have made Tig happier to hear. The club loved his Joss, she had more than ordinary loyalty from Ope, whom Tig would need some day, Joss was right about that, he could feel it even now. And Joss loved this club, they were her family, outside of Tig himself, and she'd do anything for them, or him…she'd more than proved that last night…she'd die to keep everything in tact the way it needed to be. Bobby spoke again, pulling Tig out of the shrine he'd been building to his beautiful, dark angel in his mind. "So, am I to stick around, or—"

"Na," Tig answered, looking at Joss again, watching her taking a brush to the silken treasure that was her long, black hair, perfecting its smoothness with long strokes that pulled it even straighter. "You can get, you put your time in, man."

"Cool," Bobby smiled and stood up, but walking over to Joss before exiting the canopy. "Thank you for keeping me company this morning, honey," he told her, giving her a hug and a pat on the back. "And you call me if anything starts going a way you don't like up here, got it?"

"Thank you, Bobby." Joss smiled as he let go of her. "I will. Now go enjoy your freedom!" She laughed, Bobby patting Tig on the shoulder as he departed with one more wave at her. She looked up at Tig now. "So, who's sitting with me next?"

"I am." He answered, as though it had been a common occurrence all weekend.

"Really?" Joss's brow furrowed and she sounded completely skeptical.

"What? You don't want me?" Tig half smirked, but yeah, he wanted to know…just to aggravate her.

"I didn't say that," Joss sighed, kind of smiling herself, but further showing she was happy to have him by retaking her seat at the booth. "It's just going to be difficult to talk to and make friends with civilians if you're going to be sitting next to me, eating them!"

"I won't eat that many," Tig promised, taking a seat beside her and still smirking…shit, he'd never cleaned his knife off last night…great…that was going to be fucking, bloody, stinking mess now. "So, what do you do here?"

But Joss only laughed. "You know, I have a feeling that since you're here now, things will never be the same as they were, so let's just wait and see what it all turns into, okay?"

"Cool," Tig replied, and was already feeling a little bit bored…the aggravation would come next…but he was with Joss…his angel, his queen…fuck, there really was something else he had to say to her…he'd had that feeling all knotted up inside of him for awhile now…he thought maybe he knew what it was, but then Joss had figured out that he loved her, so that couldn't have been it…could it? He could always try saying it to her, and see if it filled this void that nothing else seemed to be able to.

Yeah…right…Tig was going to say, "I love you"…he'd said it to Clay once, because it was more than owed…he'd said it to…whoever she was…that blond Crow-eater bitch that he'd passed out on the bar sixty-nining…or whatever it actually was that they'd been doing, to this day Tig still didn't know idea why he'd come to with an ass in his face and a spatula from the kitchenette in his hand…it must have been pretty good though, well…maybe…he actually just sorta liked the idea of flipping that bitch onto the floor, then marring and cheapening such sacred words…he was still drunk when he'd done that, it didn't count…'spat ula'…'spa tula'…wow, that was kind of a dirty word if he said it slow enough, hmm…probably woulda really been a wild night if he'd come outta the kitchenette with the Salad Shooter! Yeah! No! Fuck! He had to stop this, or he was going to get busted in "Bed, Bath & Beyond" for some lewd public act next! Moooooooo! No! Fucking cows! Go home! Go home! Go home! Alright…he was okay…shit…he looked over at Joss and kind of shook his head, but he knew he couldn't blame these scattered thoughts on her…he was always like this…oh well, at least he knew he was back to normal. Fuck, what had he been thinking about?

Oh yeah! Tell Joss he loved her? Hmm…fuck no! He wasn't into statements like that, not when they actually meant shit. Besides, she knew how he felt, which was weird and scary at first, not for very long, but it was, and Tig felt like he'd gone as much through that as he was going to go. Besides, what good was telling her something she knew? Who wanted that? He might as well tell her he had a big dick…she knew, she could see that. Nope, not saying the "L" word…it was bad enough he thought of it as fucking freely as he did now. But…what the hell was it he was supposed to say? She was so beautiful though…and so perfect…whatever it was that he hadn't said yet, Tig hoped he'd think of it soon. Maybe he should ask for help, though? "Hey," he said, making her look up from the "History of SAMCRO" pamphlets she'd been stacking neatly. "If you wanted something, you'd tell me, right?"

"Yeah," Joss shrugged. "But I don't usually have to tell you, you're there for me before I even get to wanting anything most of the time." She smiled at him, and laid her hand on his thigh beneath the table; patting it…sending little vibrations up his leg…right to his big dick…what was she trying to do to him? Did she not think he wouldn't throw her down on this table and go for it in front of all these fucking civilians? Cuz he would…he'd be on top, no one would see any parts of her that were only his to see!

"Hey," he grunted, catching her hand, picking it up and then slamming it down onto the table beneath his. "If I have to be good, so do you!" He told her, making her laugh…but God damn, this was part of why he loved her so fucking much! "And I meant like…if you want something from me…but…you don't know what it is…you'd still tell me, right?"

Joss shook her head than laughed in her confusion. "If I don't know what it is, then how do I know I want it from you, Tig?"

"You might," he said like he knew she knew what he was talking about, hoping that maybe she somehow did…Jesus fucking Christ…just someone, tell him what it was he was supposed to say!

"Okay," Joss suddenly looked worried and apprehensive…shit…there was something major that he hadn't done, and it had really been bothering her too! Fuck! "Tig, I don't know what you're hinting at, but if it has anything to with what you saw last night, and it's got you thinking that…someone else is better suited to give me—"

"Shut up!" The order rushed out of his mouth, though now he regretted the outburst, but he couldn't help it, he knew where she was going with that…and while Opie might have been the type to go around leaving love poems on her truck before he left for work, and calling her all day long and telling her he loved her, he knew that Joss didn't want that anymore than she wanted someone who would have pulled the trigger on her last night. Fuck…he'd been trying all morning to not think about any of that…but…now he had, and he hated it as much as he hated actually living it. But still, he shouldn't have told her to "shut up." Joss was looking as terrified as he was at the thought of the whole ordeal…she didn't want to relive it either…but if it meant putting something she thought was ailing him to rest, then she obviously would. God damn, she'd face anything for him. "Shit, I'm sorry, baby…I didn't mean to say that." He told her, looking down and wishing he'd had a little more control before he'd blurted that out…but last night…Christ…"Look, this is what happened last night: nothing. Not one fucking thing. None of that shit went down ever, none of that ever happened, and we're not talking about it, or thinking about it, because it's never going to happen again, never, never, never!" Fuck, he hadn't planned on making this morning that intense…but he had. Might as well make sure he'd gotten his point across though, now that he'd gone ballistic. "You gettin' me?"

Joss was nodding her head and looking comforted instead of upset and angry that he'd started off by telling her to "shut up," though…good! "Yeah, absolutely," she said; her eyes on his. "Thank you for saying that!"

Tig waited a moment, wondering if she'd ask about Ope, if he'd talked to him this morning, but the truth was, Opie was yet to show…maybe he wouldn't. But Joss, she was quiet, just looking at him like she was awaiting any further instructions, so eager to please her old man. Tig smiled again and reached to softly stroke her shining, black hair. She was so perfect. "Okay," he said. "Back to what I was saying then," and Joss was nodding again, a smile on her face too, but Tig was so happy to see it return that he'd forgotten what he'd been asking her. "What the fuck was I saying?"

Joss giggled a little. "If I ever want something, but I don't know what it is, would I tell you?"

Fuck, is that how he'd put that question to her? What the fuck kind of sense did that make? "Oh yeah," he nodded…shit, might as well go with it now. "It could be anything, like something for the horse, or another tattoo…or an egg beater…"

"Tig?" Joss laughed again, any remnants of the previously heavy subject gone in her voice, and that made Tig able to let go of the last bit of it too. She wiggled her hand out from under his and reached over to smooth his wild dark hair against his head. "What is going on in there today, baby?"

"Nothing," he insisted annoyed, and ducked away from her hand. "Don't touch me."

"Well, suck it up, because I'm doing it anyway." Joss replied, standing up and moving behind him; and before Tig could do anything about it, her arms were around him, pulling him back against her as she leaned down and kissed him quickly on the mouth. Shit…now every fucking civilian here could see this…but then, they didn't know him…but now they definitely knew who Joss was with! "Look," she said t him as he felt himself relaxing a bit. "I love you. You're everything I need, and I'm not harboring some unrequited and secret desire for an egg beater."

Tig nodded, his thoughts still the jumbled mess they'd been at the start of this. "I think I am." He confessed, looking up at her a little.

Joss laughed softly and hugged him again. "Well, then we'll get through that," she sighed, then shook her head. "God help us…."

"You see?" He asked, well, more whined, leaning back against her million dollar body. "This is when I feel like I'm supposed to do something, or say something, or give you something…and I have no fucking idea what it is."

Joss nodded, she let go of him some, knowing he wasn't going to allow this much longer…and he wasn't, but she kissed him again then left him, taking her seat beside him again. "Okay," she said like she understood, and Tig felt himself getting so hopeful…was she going to tell him what it was he hadn't been able to figure out for so long now? "But I don't know that I can help you with that."

"What?" Tig cried out, a little louder than he'd meant to…but fuck! Why didn't she know? She was genius for shit sake! Or did she know, but she wanted him to just figure it out? Maybe she wanted him to say that he loved her, even though she knew he did? Fuck! Was he really going to have to say that to her? No…for starters, he couldn't say that to her…it just wasn't physically possible for those words to come out of his mouth in reference to her! But, what if that really was it? What if those words really were going to have to come out of his mouth? Shit! He'd break his neck trying to say that cold…maybe he should start warming up to it…tell her he "loved" certain things about her…but start slow…go ahead, move 'em out, look at her right now, pick something neutral, and tell her, 'Joss, I love how you don't have any visible nose hair,' or something and just ease into it one day at a time? Okay, it wouldn't be so much like jumping off of a building and slamming into the pavement that way…he could do that. What? Wait one fucking minute! No, he wasn't saying the "L" word to her out loud…no way, no how. Joss knew that wasn't his style, she couldn't have any expectations that he'd really say that to her…could she? What if she did though? No! He wasn't saying that…never, never, never! And he knew that Joss was okay with that. But then, what the hell was he supposed to say? This feeling wasn't going away until he knew, damn it!

"Tig," Joss smiled sweetly. "This falls under the jurisdiction of being 'your shit.' You know it, too!" She said, but took his hand. "I can't tell you what it is that you feel like you need to do, I really can't. But be happy that I can't! Because if I could sit here and rattle off a list of things that you haven't done for me, then baby, there wouldn't be any you and me," she held his hand in both of hers and stroked his palm soothingly. "I love you, you are my everything and you make very happy! And I know you'll get this 'thing' figured out, but I won't put pressure on you to do it. I just know that you will."


	62. Bombshell

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 62

"How long does this take?" Asked Happy's Lauren, already pacing across Joss's living room.

Joss flipped the box over one more time, so unfamiliar with this whole concept, but the moment she'd gotten the frantic call from Happy's Lauren, she'd called both the girls over to her house; it was the best place to get an answer to this, Joss's house, where she could be in charge and therefore, be as strong for her friend as her friend needed her to be. "It says five minutes," she said, then looked at Juice's Lauren. "Hey, go get my kitchen timer; we can make sure we check it at the right time then, because it says here that if you let it sit too long, you can get a false positive."

"Good idea," said Juice's Lauren, then looked back at the other Lauren. "It'll be okay," she said, "No matter what it says; Joss and I are here for you."

"And no matter what you decide to do after we know what it says, too!" Joss added, looking at Happy's Lauren as she sank onto the couch and tucked herself up in a little ball. "There's always more than one outcome and more than one choice, and none of them are wrong, you remember that!" She said almost sternly, but truly, this worry was so very foreign to her, and Joss wasn't sure she was saying the right things…but she knew she had to keep her friend calm, and make her realize she wasn't alone, because she wasn't; Joss took care of her own.

"Alright, thank you both…but," Happy's Lauren sighed and then groaned. "Look, I never thought I'd be facing this, I really didn't! But I have at least five minutes to not be freaked out here, and that's what I wanna use them for." But Lauren's arms were folding over her belly even as she tried to not think about what her future might hold. Poor girl…maybe…Joss didn't really know if this was bad or good yet…it would depend a lot on how Happy reacted, if there was even something for Lauren to tell him. But even then…well, it would be a strange conversation, but Joss would go to Tig if she had to, and tell him that he needed to talk to Happy, prepare him for fatherhood, if it indeed loomed. Tig had two kids of his own, he'd done this once before, and he and Happy were pretty close. Tig might hate doing it, but he'd do it…Joss would make sure. "I need something else on my mind right now," Lauren sighed, looking at Joss and the other Lauren who was now setting the timer.

"Sure," Nodded Joss, looking over to Juice's Lauren as well, both of them nodding now. "It's safe here, Lauren. The guys are at work, and it's just us girls. We can talk about anything you want, or just sit and enjoy the silence, it's your call."

"No, let's talk!" She answered fervently. "But not about…you know," she said and then tried to shrug the thought away, sighing again and looked around Joss's living room like she needed to find a subject of conversation. And then she did, creasing her brow. "Why is there a potato masher on your steps?"

Damn it, Tig! Joss sighed as she looked towards her 'beautiful' red stairwell that lead up to the bedroom. "Oh," she said, trying to concoct a logical reason, but really, was there one? "Tig's…going through something right now, he's got something on his mind that he's trying to figure out, and when he's like that, he just gets…a little more crazy." She explained; well, vented really…every night was a new adventure that lead to another confusing conversation with him. "I think he's overcompensating a little in the creativity department as a result."

Both Laurens looked at each other, at a loss for words, then finally they both began to laugh. "A potato masher?" asked Juice's Lauren through her giggles and guffaws. "Really?"

Joss sighed, this was so unfair. "Well I'm glad you two think it's so funny, but I literally have to frisk him before he gets into bed with me at night!" She complained, but it only made the two other girls laugh a little harder, and Joss finally gave up and joined them. She loved Tig, no matter how odd ball and fetishistic he could be…but it would be nice when he finally realized whatever it was he was trying to tell her and got back to a more normal "Tig state" than the one he'd been in lately. Not that he was hard to get along with, he was actually very affectionate when they were alone, and it was wonderful; him pulling her back into his arms on the couch when they watched TV at night, or if he didn't do that, he was laying down with his head in her lap. Joss had never thought they'd be doing that on a regular basis…but then, she also never thought she'd be waking up next to a cheese grater either. But she did understand though…it made sense…Tig was wrapped around some mysterious "thing" he was supposed to do or say or give to her, and so he'd been fixating on objects that took the place of whatever it was he tried to determine he was supposed to be doing for her. He'd figure it out though. He knew what it was already, Joss could feel that every time he looked at her, but she had no clue as to what it was herself and wouldn't until Tig finally realized what he knew and shared it with her. One thing was for certain though, whatever it was, it was not a Panini press!

"Oh," Happy's Lauren took a deep breath and tried to recover from her laughter. "I needed that, thanks!" She said to Joss, looking a little bit more relaxed now…or so Joss guessed…because really, the idea of what could be happening, what they could be about to find out, was something that Joss just didn't know how to get inside of.

She smiled at Happy's girl though, Joss did understand worrying, and she hated to think of her friend facing so much unrest. "Glad I could help."

"Yeah, but I'm not eating at your house any time soon!" Laughed Juice's Lauren and the three of them began laughing all over again.

"It's not really like that," Joss felt that she should clarify. "Every night is like some…hostage negotiation, he comes upstairs with something, and I talk him into freeing it." She explained, as if the girls weren't going to laugh again, but they were, and so was Joss. She hadn't talked about this with anyone, so she wasn't prepared for how ridiculous it all was and sounded. Maybe it wasn't the most romantic story, and it wasn't really something she'd planned on discussing, but it had helped Happy's Lauren forget for at least a little while, and Joss knew how important a break like that could be in the face of turmoil and inner strife. "The wooden spoon took a lot of bargaining…he really wanted that…" she added, and the three of them laughed some more.

"You must have an interesting list of things you never thought you'd say in bed," Laughed Juice's Lauren, looking at Joss, and it seemed that it really was working, none of them were thinking about the test kit in the bathroom, readying to foretell the future.

"You have no idea!" Joss sighed, but still laughed. "'Tig, drop the muffin pan,'…'Tig, really, what are you going to do with the bread machine?'…'No, we do not need a coffin,'…"Fine, the rolling pin can 'watch' from the dresser,"…"I don't care how you do it, but you're going to get all that applesauce out of the bath tub!"

"Oh my God, really?" Juice's Lauren was laughing just as hard as was Happy's Lauren, both of them so affected by what Joss had said that they made no sounds despite their obvious hilarity. Good, they all needed this. "And I thought I had it rough with Juice shooting his underwear across the room, trying to get it to land hanging on the doorknob!" She continued, and again the three of them doubled over with more and more laughter.

"Well, no. I admit, I kinda embellished a little about Tig," Joss confessed. "I made that stuff up…except for the rolling pin part." She said, and the girls laughed again, "and the coffin." The girls still laughed…but damn…she'd very nearly lost the coffin fight…that would have been…eeeeeew, Joss loved Tig and all his proclivities with him, but she didn't want to think about that one. "This is my life…take it or leave it." She sighed, but smiled.

"Yeah," Happy's Lauren sighed from the couch herself. "But at least if Happy's thing were rolling pins and bread machines, I may not…be where I am now." Joss and Juice's Lauren both tried to step in and make her forget for the remaining time that she could, but Happy's Lauren just shook her head at them. "How am I going to tell Happy this? I mean, he's not Juice…Juice would be overjoyed, right?" One Lauren asked of the other.

"Well," Lauren sighed, thinking it over. "He'd be pretty shocked at first, I mean, we've never discussed this. I don't even know if he wants kids, but I've seen him with kids, and he does get along with them pretty good." She admitted. "He'd be there for me, just the way Happy will be there for you, too."

"She's right," said Joss, who didn't really have any hypothetical situation to relate to, but was doing her best and saying what she knew she should.

"You understand, Joss, don't you?" Happy's Lauren asked. "I mean, if you had to tell Tig you were pregnant…you'd be worried too, just like I am, for the same reasons."

"Well," Joss sighed, and she still couldn't put herself into that place. "When I was nine years old, I sorta had an accident, and after some intensive surgical repairs, I didn't have a uterus anymore, so…" she explained; but Tig seemed to carry some odd paranoia that she could get pregnant, even though he knew all about her, but Joss didn't even quite understand that. She'd lived with the knowledge that she wouldn't have that part of life, ever, and she'd more than let go of it before she was old enough to even understand it. But, well…she had to try here. "If things weren't the way they are, and it did happen, Tig wouldn't be exactly thrilled," she said, because Joss being pregnant was some unnatural fear for him. "And Lauren, if you are, then yeah, I can see where Happy might react a little…disappointedly, but," she paused and looked at Lauren levelly. "You can't always go by a first reaction! A lot of times, guys pull the fuck away from shit they actually do want incredibly hard, because knowing how much they want that thing, or love that thing, or how happy that thing could make them, forever, scares the hell out of them." Yeah, pregnancy, babies…they weren't in Joss's repertoire, but big, tough, dangerous men who tried to resist the pull of what they wanted most, but felt like they didn't deserve, yeah, Joss knew all about that. "If it's so, just give him time to do what he's going to do, but he'll be back. I promise you that."

And then the kitchen timer that Juice's Lauren had set for five minutes began to beep, silencing all of them. "Well," said Juice's Lauren. "Who wants to go check it? We're looking for a 'plus' or a 'minus' in the little window."

Happy's Lauren turned an ashen face towards Joss, and Juice's Lauren just shrugged her shoulders. Joss sighed…"fine," she said, and got to her feet. "It's not like I'll ever be here again, anyway."

Chapter 62; Part 2

Both Ope and Tig knew what Tig had seen early last Sunday morning…and now they were stuck working together on this old panhead…which was just barely that anymore. Clay had bought it at the CBA's, rescued it really from this stupid cocksucker who had about ruined the rocker shaped covers. The engine must have been dropped on a hard surface at some point, it looked damn near like a 1966 shovelhead now, but it wasn't. But this engine was dead…beaten and broke down, and Tig began to wonder what kind of hope Clay realistically could have had for it. But, he and Ope had been tasked with trying to restore it, and that had meant Tig's expertise in cleaning, chasing and chamfering all the threads, and Opie's gift for sealing all the cracks in the combustion chamber…which had of course fated them to be working together today in close quarters.

"We're not really going to get anywhere with this until it can be bead blasted," Opie sighed as he stood back and looked at the engine that they'd been working on all morning long now. They'd been talking, a lot, but it had all been central to the old panhead, neither one of them mentioning a damn thing about the CBA's, the wannabe, the Ten Patch, and certainly not what Opie took from Joss. Fine, if Ope wanted to play it that way, Tig was content to as well…but despite how hard he tried, he could not get the image of Opie leaning Joss back against his bike, his arms around her, and his mouth over hers…until Joss had pulled away, turned her head with a fury…Jesus fucking Christ did Tig want to ram Ope's head into the chamfering machine and then beat the fuck out of him until his whole face was one massive, bloody schism, and he would have, if it weren't for knowing that Ope wished to do the same to him over Donna. At least Tig still had Joss…his dark, sweet, perfect Joss…and when it came down to it, Tig couldn't blame any man for falling in love with her, even though it made him so fucking crazy to know they had.

No, he had to focus on this poor old engine and forget everything he knew about Ope. "We don't have enough valve stem seals for this dinosaur anyway," Tig stood next to Opie, looking down at their 'patient' and shaking his head. "I'm still thinking that she's gonna hemorrhage oil cuz her heads are so fucking warped."

Peripherally Tig saw Opie shoot him some kind of smirking glance, "If you say so," he said as if deferring to an expert, but before Tig could react to that little quip, Ope continued, looking on at the suffering engine. "So, do we tell Clay she didn't make it?"

"Who didn't make it?" Came Clay's voice as he approached both Ope and Tig, likely coming over to check on their progress, but he was carrying what looked like a business card. Great, the last thing Tig needed to hear, concerning the panhead, was that Clay had already found a buyer for it, and they wanted it fully restored by mid week.

"Not my words, man," Tig said, looking squarely at Ope, but then turned back to Clay. "But your panhead; she's in a really bad fucking way, Clay."

Clay peered grimly over Tig's shoulder, "Hmmm," it was obvious that he saw what Tig and Opie had both seen, and hopefully he was reconsidering trying to save it. Tig wasn't sure how much longer he could go on working with Opie today, knowing everything, but saying nothing. "I hate to see something so classic being dumped though, you know?" Clay asked, looking at Tig and Ope. "That's part of history right there, our history; the birthplace of our brotherhood, we gotta maintain that. We ain't got that, then we got nothing."

Fuck…Clay wasn't just talking about the old panhead anymore…Tig knew it. Brotherhood…yeah, without that, they had nothing. He looked up away from the nearly demolished panhead and saw that Opie was looking back at him, and they were both nodding their heads. Shit…they were going to have to get through this, the engine, and all their shit. "So, we keep going then, huh?" He asked, but still met eyes with Ope, even though Tig knew Clay's answer before he said it…and he didn't have to, it came in the form of a pat on the back from Clay, for both Tig and Ope.

"It may not be easy, or even pretty at times," Clay said as he drew back a bit, like he was going to leave them alone again, to work on things. "But you'll get it there, I know you will." He said, and then did step away. Tig looked at Ope and Ope looked at him…they were similar, but were they similar enough to do this; to take something so beat up and abused and make it run perfectly again? But before either one of them could say something, or even look away from the other, Clay reappeared, tapping the business card he'd been carrying on Tig's arm. "Oh, I almost forgot," he said. "Had a guy with some vintage, Varga-girl kinda modeling agency stop me and talk to me for awhile at the CBA's. He's really impressed and excited about Joss, gave me his card and I talked to him for a good hour, he sounds legit. Wants Joss, or her manager, to give him a call and maybe set something up, he says when he looks at her, he sees the revival of Betty Page."

"What?" Tig hadn't been expecting that, not at all…but Joss and Betty Page, yeah, he definitely could see that! Betty Page…whoa…yeah, Tig had passed a few lonely evenings with her photographs as company…she was something special…and so was Joss! God damn his little girl was hot, yeah, she'd be a perfect pin-up…no wonder she'd drawn the attention of a…whatever this asshole who had talked to Clay was. But still, did he want Joss doing this? She was an absolute masterpiece of beauty and sensuality, and yeah, he liked showing that off and having it recognized, but did he want pictures of that before the eyes of more than only himself?

Clay pushed the business card into his hand, Tig looking down at it and feeling as though he wasn't the only one that was caught off guard and unsure, and a quick glance upwards revealed that Opie stood there looking flattered, but apprehensive as well…that motherfucker…what had Tig told him about whose old lady Joss was, and who got to worry about her? But what was he going to do? Punch Opie out here and now, in front of Clay, get into trouble for doing it because it would have looked unprovoked, and then have to explain what happened at the CBA's, so all the speculation could then shift to Joss and why she was still living? No, he'd told her they were going to forget that shit, and he'd meant it…but Ope…fuck…no, just ignore it; that was best. Besides, Clay clearly wanted him an Ope to work things out; Joss had said Tig would need Ope one day, and now that same message was coming down from Clay too. "Clay, man…seriously, you think this is a good thing?"

Tig realized he hadn't actually been asking about the modeling thing, though he had been looking at the business card when he'd asked, and of course, that's how Clay had taken it. "I think a few calendars with a reaper on them, and your gorgeous old lady in them, wouldn't hurt this club at all!" He said, then patted Tig's shoulder once more, and walked away for good this time, or so it seemed, because he did stop and look back once more. "But you just make sure it's tasteful! I'm not kidding!"

"Shit," Tig sighed, still looking at the business card, but Clay's words actually were making him think about Joss and calendars now. Tasteful? What the hell did that even mean, and why had Clay felt he had to say that? Tig wasn't even sure he was going to approve this! No, the CBA's were enough…Joss was ridiculously alluring and beautiful and sexy…and anything with her image on it, along with a reaper, would be a legitimate money maker…but still…what if his idea of "tasteful" where Joss was concerned didn't match that of the asshole with the camera? Camera boy got thumped to death…that's what it meant.

"Hey," Ope said, kind of quietly, but anxiously, looking at the business card in Tig's hand still. "You're not really going to let Joss do that, are you?" He asked, obviously less than enthused than Clay was. "I mean, Betty Page? All that bondage shit and the…nudity?"

Fucking piece of shit…that was it, Tig couldn't 'just ignore' it any longer. Opie was probably just asking out of sick, jealous curiosity, just dying to sneak a peak of Joss to complete the immoral fantasy in his head…and that wasn't fucking tasteful! Fuckin' doll's eyes in a civilian bitch's fat ass…shit! Tig was so ragged out with how pissed off he was that he couldn't even swear anymore…he was rapidly becoming comical…but at least this was all happening in his head…he hoped…and there was only one way to stop this though! Tig raised his hand, a fist at the end of it, but at the last minute he remembered where they were as he swung it forward, and all of sudden, his index appeared as he pulled the punch, and he just stood there pointing viciously at Opie. "You just stop God damn thinking about my old lady's 'nudity!'" Tig yelled, and then all of a sudden the entire garage was looking over at them. Fuck…okay, he'd lost it, but could anyone blame him?

"I'm not, man!" Ope shouted back, and waved his hands in front of him, showing that he wouldn't fight, but that he wouldn't have any unmerited assumptions about what he was thinking made either. Ope quieted again, obviously he hadn't meant to start drawing attention to this, or to them. He looked back at Tig, glanced at the business card, and one more time, gave Tig a good long, level look, like he really wanted him to think about this. Fuck, Ope may have had feelings for Joss that Tig fucking hated him having, but Ope also had mad respect for her too. "I just don't want to see her, you know, exploited."

What the flaming hell gave Ope the right to say that to Tig about Joss? Holy fucking shit on Jesus's head! Tig was going to bust him up…good…real good…where the fuck was that tow chain he'd strung Butcher up with? No…stop it…get control…at least for right now…bust his ass up later. "What the fuck are you talking about?" Tig yelled again, though he'd meant to stay quiet. Was this Ope's new thing? He was going to try to make Tig look like he would sell Joss out, so that everyone would suddenly support Opie taking her away from Tig? Fuck no! God fucking damn it, Tig really wanted to go grab the Crescent Wrench and bash Opie's big 'ol Chewbadooba head into a pulpy paté. "That girl is sacred to me, man! I fucking love her! You think I'd patch her, and then put her out there like that? Like she's some free-pussy hangaround?" Holy shit…did he just say, out loud, that he loved Joss? And he was still living to tell the tale? What the fuck was happening anymore? Motherfucking-cunt hair-cow licking-Capistrano-cocksucking-can opener…that's what Opie was…makin' all this bad, stupid, shit happen!

"Look bro," Despite all the ridiculously and cartoonish-ly violent thoughts that whizzed through Tig's mind, Opie stood there and held his ground sternly. "All I'm saying is this: I know what she is to you man, and I respect how you feel about her, I do! Everyone in this club knows what she is, but you start letting pictures like that of her get out among civilians, and …well, they don't fucking know what she is, or what that patch on her back means, do they?"

Shit! Fuck! Double shit fuck! Ope was fucking right! Tig suddenly went quiet, but it had very little to do with the current friction between he and Ope, or this modeling thing, which Tig would have to do some long, serious thinking about before he'd have an answer. But he had an answer to one thing. Joss! Man, he had to get home to her…now!


	63. Disengaged

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 63

"Joss!" The sound of the front door opening, followed by Tig's bellowing had been unexpected; it was only quarter to one, but Joss just turned towards the basement steps as she continued to separate the laundry, hoping he hadn't rushed home from the garage with some fresh idea for incorporating yet some other major kitchen appliance into the wild, unpredictable escapade their sex life was lately. This day had already been exciting enough…she really needed a break. Some time to get over what the morning had been like was in order, Joss had never had to take charge of a situation where a little thing like a "plus" or a "minus" sign was going to drastically change a life, and she'd never had to get her girls in line like that and settle everyone's worries and deal out so much strength, it was sort of exhausting. A few quiet moments of contemplative laundry-doing would have been nice…but if Tig needed her, she was there!

"Down here," she yelled calmly up the steps, encouraged when she didn't hear Tig go anywhere near the kitchen…of course, there other random objects in the house he could be mulling over at the moment. Oh well…Joss would just take her chances and see what she got.

Tig's footsteps were lumbering overhead in no time, and soon he was halfway down the basement steps, sounding like a jack hammer was soon to be on the landing. He looked…unusual. "Are you okay?" She asked, examining him from where she stood about twenty-five feet away at the washer. "You're home awfully early."

"I left, but I have to go back." He explained. "I called you to, but then I hung up, cuz I was afraid you'd answer."

"What?" Joss was shaking her head and trying to make sense of what he was saying. "Aren't we a little bit passed that 'Oh my God, she picked up!' stage?"

Apparently it was becoming clear to Tig that he looked and sounded absurd and out of control. He took a deep breath, centered himself; instantly looked more like himself, and just for an added bit of tranquility, now he leaned against the railing. "So," he asked her, ignoring how this had all started. "What are you doing today?"

"Tig," Joss was looking him over again, searching for whatever was with him, that wasn't exactly the smoothest of transitions, or most natural of postures. He looked like a mannequin that someone had dressed up in biker jeans and a garage smock, and leaned it there on the steps; the only thing missing was his arm slightly raised and him looking down at his watch. "Okay, what the hell did you take, or smoke, this time? Just tell me, I won't be mad, I promise."

But Tig laughed like he'd lived and learned. "Oh, you say that, but you never mean it, do you?"

"Tig, God damn it!" Joss half shouted at him. "Now you're making me worry about you, would you just tell me what you did?"

He sighed. "Nothing," he said, and then he sighed again. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be all freaking you out…I'm just…I got something—" but he paused right there, and seemed like someone had to push "play" again.

"What do you have?" Shit…he'd taken something…she knew it! And he'd done it at work no less, where all the tools and machines were that could kill him…great! "Okay, never mind…I don't even want to know anymore…just go upstairs, lay down, and I'll call Clay for you to tell him you're taking the rest of the day off."

"What?" He asked, making a face like now she sounded as odd to him as he did to her. "No, I'm good, really! Baby, you gotta believe me, I didn't take shit, I swear to God!" Joss wanted to believe him, and she stood there looking at him like she wanted to, which made Tig roll his eyes and take yet another deep breath. "Okay, I'm going back upstairs, and then I'm coming down again, and we're going to do this whole thing over again, but without you thinking I'm having some weed high nightmare, and without me acting like a retard, we good?"

"Okay," Joss replied, still perplexed, but before she even had the whole word out, Tig was going up the stairs, across the living room, and all the way back to the front door. What the hell was going on with him? He'd been a little stranger than his normal kind of strange ever since the CBA's, but now he was…well, yeah he was acting strangely, but it was almost out of some kind of excitement that he just couldn't contain…like a super distracted little kid…with hyperactivity disorder.

The front door opened and closed again. Wow, they really were doing this whole thing over again! "Joss!" Tig bellowed once more. She rolled her eyes but laughed a bit, and went back to sorting lights and darks for the washer.

"Still down here," she yelled again, and laughed a little more; she loved her man so much…no two days were the same with Tig…but he better not have been lying about not being on anything!

Again he walked above her, but calmly this time, his strides collected, and as he came half way down the steps, it no longer sounded like a herd of elephants. "Hey," he smiled at her, just like he would have any other time, that wasn't a "take two."

"Hey," she said back, but couldn't help cocking her head at him and giving him that 'I love you, but you're such an idiot' look, but Joss kept most of her attention on rifling through the pockets of his jeans to make sure there was nothing in there that wouldn't be washer friendly…ever since he'd left those forty-five caliber rounds in his pocket, Joss always checked…that had been a stupid fucking worry to have…not knowing where the bullets had rolled inside the washing machine, or what heat source they'd come up against, just knowing that at any moment, she stood a chance of being lethally shot by a top-loading, eight cycle, duet fabric care system Whirlpool! But she looked at Tig and she smiled at him; she really did love him, no one had a man like her man! "So, give me a sec to get this done, and I'll get you some lunch."

"Na," Tig shook his head, and damn if he didn't seem completely normal now. Okay, she'd go with it. "I gotta get back to garage," he said. "I just stopped by to see what you were doing."

Joss still wasn't sure what he was up to, or had been up to, but it was obviously something, because that was an asinine reason for him to come home. "Well," she sighed, refusing to question him for fear that he'd fall apart again, and then want to do this whole thing over again, one more time. Besides, he was much calmer now, like nothing had ever happened. She should probably take her cue from that. "Right now, I'm doing laundry, then I'm going to go work with Sam and on my way home, I'm stopping by the store to get the shopping done for the week." Tig stood there on the steps, placidly nodding his head. "You need anything while I'm out?" She asked, because she would have any other time.

"Yeah," he said, and tried to think, "razors."

"Okay," Joss nodded, "the kind with three blades or the kind with four blades, because last time I got the wrong ones, and you had problems with them irritating your neck."

"Shit! Yeah!" Tig remembered, and stood there calmly trying to think again, so suddenly focused now…but whatever, it was just good to see. "The ones with four," he said, but then shook his head. "No three." He abruptly re-decided, but then furrowed his brow as he considered it further, "no, four."

"How about if I see if they make any with seven?" Joss laughed, but looked at him standing there like he was waiting for something to happen. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes, stop asking me that!" He demanded, his voice an annoyed whine. "I missed you, okay? That's all."

"Did you?" She couldn't help smile, and well, yeah, that might have been it. Tig realizing he missed her when she was just seven minutes away, and also that he missed her despite living with her, would have shorted out his little circuits for awhile. He had been kind of lovey lately, not as much as a normal guy would have been on a consistent basis, but hell, Joss had difficulties some nights trying to make dinner, because not only were kitchen utensils spread all over between the steps and bedroom, but also because Tig was pressed up against her from behind, playing with her hair, or rubbing her sides and her back and kissing her neck. "You're not turning into the 'sensitive type' on me, are you?" She laughed, now beginning to put clothing into the washer and laughing a little more when Tig sneered at her.

"I'm outta here," he groaned, and started up the steps, but he looked kind of glad that she'd saved him from what he'd said, which had been her purpose; Joss by now knew how this worked. "I'll be home around five."

"See ya then," she smiled up the stairs at him, and before he was to the top, she walked a little towards the steps and shouted. "And I miss you, too!" She knew he wouldn't answer or even acknowledge, and he didn't. He just walked across the living room again and she heard the front door open and shut for a third time. "I love you too, Crazy-Nutso," she murmured to herself as she smiled, and walked back to the washer and the pile of dirty clothes, but by the time she'd gotten back there, the front door opened and closed again, and Tig bounded across the floorboards again, clunking down the basement steps like he was in some new rush.

"Hey," he said again, and didn't look quite as calm in 'take three' as he had in 'take two,' but he wasn't doing the drugged up and out mannequin thing either. "I forgot something."

Okay, this must have been about the razors, or something else he needed at the store, but he looked so…intentioned about what he came to add to her list. "What?" Joss asked, grabbing a handful of dirty socks, a pair of Tig's boxer-briefs dangling from her fingers with them.

He took a deep breath, but after he did, he was Tig again, no nervousness, no hyped up, wide eyed, wheels turning faster than his engine could go, aura about him. He looked at her, steadily, smiled a little, like he might laugh, but he didn't. "Hey," he said again, but he was so in control now, but this wasn't some kind of "look at me, get it together" kind of thing, he was just, Tig. Well, maybe there really was nothing to this? Joss looked up at him and nodded her head, showing him she was listening, but went back to gathering the dirty laundry, separating his dark boxer briefs from his lighter ones. And that's when Tig finally spoke. "Would you marry me?"

What? What! Joss froze where she was, half leaned over into a pile of unwashed laundry. Did he really just say that? No, he couldn't have…he'd said it too much like he was asking her to pass the salt or something. But her damn memory was photographic; she knew what Tig had said…it was echoing in her mind right now…but had she maybe misunderstood? Did she only hear the word "marry?" Maybe he said "canary," or "dairy," or "fairy." No, Tig would definitely not want anyone to "fairy" him! "Bury!" Yeah, maybe he'd said "Would you bury me?" That sorta almost made sense coming from him! But no…Joss knew what she heard…the "M" word! Oh shit!

"Joss!" Tig called to her from the steps, but not like he was panicked or even that concerned, but if this is what he'd come home to ask her, no wonder he'd been so rattled at the start. He was staring at her over there, an odd sculpture placed among the unclean delicates. "Alright, what did you take?" He teased accusingly, grinning at her. "See? That's annoying as shit, being asked that when you didn't fucking take anything, right little girl?"

"Tig!" She groaned, this wasn't funny. Oh hell! Oh God! Oh no! Finally she straightened herself, squeezing the 'unmentionables' in her hands now. "Okay, just so I know I'm not catching your crazy, what did you just ask me?" She knew by now very well what he'd said…she was just stalling, and she hoped that didn't show. She had to think of what to do here, fast!

Tig sighed, but he smiled still. "Would you marry me?" He re-asked her, just as casually and unceremoniously as he'd said it the first time.

Why was he asking her that? He was never supposed to ask her that! She wore a property patch, why was more needed than that? He'd proposed? Yeah, he had! And now…she had to answer him. Fuck! Was this even happening? Joss looked up at him, doing her best to remain calm; she looked at her man, he was so full of crazy surprises, "for real or hypothetically?" Well, that was a valid enough question, particularly given Tig was the one doing the asking.

He furrowed his brow and seemed to put a lot of thought into what she'd said, like she'd brought up a very good point. "Yeah." He finally answered, and Joss would have laughed if she wasn't so hysterical.

Damn! Now what? Joss looked downwards a minute, she really didn't want to make him angry, or hurt him…but, how did she get out of this without doing either one? Her knuckles were as white as the 'unmentionables' she squeezed in her hands…and then she looked up at Tig again, having found a way to belay this stand-off. "Do I have to answer you with dirty underwear in my hands?"

Tig looked at her and made a face again, laughing this time as he focused on what she held. "I'm sorry, baby," he said. "I guess flowers would be better than my drawers, huh?"

Joss nodded, trying to appear normal…well, maybe not normal, because what woman was "normal" when she'd just been proposed to? But she didn't want to seem scared out of her mind, either. "Yeah," she said and threw the clothing into the washer, willing herself not over or under-do her reaction. "That would be a prettier picture," she agreed, but then also didn't want to get Tig's hopes up. "But, I don't really need the flowers either."

"Okay," Tig sighed, and he was coming all the way down the stairs now. "C'mere," he told her as he approached her, and Joss, so in need of shelter from everything storming her mind and her feelings, ran to him, wishing she could just disappear in his arms, and Tig hugged her so tightly, she thought maybe she had. He leaned down and kissed her, actually dipping her backwards as he held her to him, ala 'sailor kissing nurse' in Times Square, 1945. Wow, he'd never done that before…he must have really wanted to get married! Really? Tig? Joss was so dizzy when he stood her back upright again that all she could do was cling to him. "Here's what we're going to do," he said, laying his cheek to the top of her head and holding her even tighter, her palms flat against his chest, but he pressed more against her until she understood that he did want her arms around him this time, Joss immediately granting him that and snuggled even more into him, and the ironic safeness he was at the moment. "This is that thing I was telling you about, that I had to say to you, but I didn't know what it was?" He reminded her. "When I figured it out this morning, I just had to get it out, and it came out all…insane," he admitted, laughing again. "So, when I come home tonight, we're going to do this again, the right way, and then neither one of us will be so fucked up over it. We good?"

"Yeah," she said, her voice muffled against his broad chest, and she hugged him even tighter. But no, they weren't "good," and it sucked, because Tig was so confident in this, like he knew she was going to say "yes," and he was really really putting himself "out there" and doing something he could have never imagined entering into again. And he was so happy about it…he loved her this damn much?

"Alright, good," he said, releasing her. "I gotta get back to work; you got things to do, so tell crazy Sammy I said 'hi' and I'll see you back here at around five, okay?"

"Yeah," Joss said again, and she couldn't help smiling a bit, and was slow to let go of him; yeah, he loved her that damn much, but he did have to get back to work and she had to figure out how she was going to handle this.

Tig turned and started back up the stairs again, then stopped one more time and looked back at her. "Four blades, baby! Those are the ones!" He smiled at her, then continued up the stairs.

"Okay," Joss acknowledged, and tried to settle herself down, but she felt like…like an awful, evil, vile thing. "I love you!" She yelled as Tig summit-ed the steps.

"I know!" He shouted back, and then he was walking across the living room, out the front door, and Joss stood in the basement listening until she heard his bike start and then pull away.

Oh no! She collapsed down to her knees now, she was so drained. How had all this happened? Of all the things for Tig to say…"would you marry me" was the one that could have fucked things up the most between them…and he'd said it! Joss had no idea what to do here; she'd never been thinking she'd be in this position. Of course, she didn't ever entertain thoughts of pregnancy tests and the outcomes, but she'd been able to hold Lauren together nonetheless…but this was nothing like that. Shit! She couldn't handle this one alone…she had to talk to someone…and there was only one someone who could handle this. She ran up the stairs, checking again out the window to make sure Tig wasn't doing another encore then picked up her cellphone, instantly dialing the number she knew better than any other she'd ever called. It didn't ring very long, and despite the warm greeting of, "Joss, how are you, baby girl?" Joss let her panic take over, replying with the words, "Gemma! I have a big problem!"


	64. Fatherhood

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 64

Happy was standing there, watching Slinky-Slinky-bitch's car pulling off of the lot, and he looked like she'd gotten out and slapped him then drove away or some shit. Tig secured his helmet on his bike and walked towards Hap and the garage wondering what the hell could have just happened, Slinky-Slinky-bitch was cool, he liked her, particularly for Joss; Joss, Slinky-Slinky-bitch and Hob-bitch were a really good threesome…hmm…a threesome…mmm-hmm…no! He had to see what was up with his boy. Fuck…why was it that just when Tig was feeling good, everyone else around him seemed to be nose diving into shit? But he was feeling good…too damn good…not only had he figured out what it was he'd been needing and wanting to say to Joss, but he'd also said it! And he didn't have to say the "L" word to her either…nope, he'd said it to Opie instead…fuck! What? No, he hadn't told Ope that he loved him…but hell, of all of his brothers to blurt out that he loved Joss in front of, whom better than Ope? Whatever, things were going to be good tonight when Tig got home…he was gettin' some tonight! Jesus fucking Christ…Mrs. Trager…Joss was going to be his in every way she could be…yeah, that felt good! Hmm…was there somewhere they could just get it done tonight? Did they need blood tests and all that shit? Or could they just get on his bike and go…run-off and get married…and tell everyone when they finally got out of bed? Happy…man, he should tell Happy! What if he and Joss needed a witness or something if they could do this tonight?

But shit…Happy was standing there looking like Joss tricked him into eating "girl food" again. What the fuck was wrong with him? "Hey," Tig said, stepping up to Hap, who didn't even seem to realize he was there, until Tig gave him a shoulder-punch greeting. "She didn't just drive up here and try to dump you, did she?" He asked, realizing that might have been the case…not that it mattered, because bitches didn't get away if a brother wanted them around.

Happy turned his head slowly, his face was pale. "No," he said, looking at Tig like he really needed a drink. "It wasn't that."

"Okay, that's good," But Tig was concerned now, what the hell else could it have been? Happy and Slinky-Slinky-bitch seemed pretty tight, Happy wearing cologne and giving her flowers and shit…Shit! Tig had to remember to get flowers tonight himself! But, that was different from when Happy was asking Joss about what kind of flowers girls liked…it wasn't anywhere near as romantic or wimpy or any of that fucking bullshit…flowers were just better than dirty underwear. Happy sighed heavily and looked back at Slinky-Slinky-bitch's car as it merged onto the street. He really did look messed up, something was wrong, but what it could be? It was obviously something big! "Fuck! She's not really a dude, is she?"

Happy glared back at Tig, shaking his head. "Don't you think I woulda noticed that?"

"Hey, take it easy, bro. I don't know that much about her," Tig replied, backing off physically a bit, giving Happy the space he seemed to need. "But, I ain't makin' any judgments, it's cool."

But Happy shook his head again. "No," he said and sighed again, looking at Tig. "It's not. It's about as fucking complicated as it can get." He looked back towards the car, but it was gone now, so he looked at Tig again. "She's pregnant, man."

Fuck! Tig felt himself stagger backwards a little. He had to say something, but what? Shit…this brought back memories…it was how the first Mrs. Trager got to be Mrs. Trager…he was only a college sophomore, in ROTC, playing football, in love with a comely co-ed…and then…obligation struck…marriage, far before he was ready for it or even wanted it…and then, Dawn Trager…followed by…Fawn Trager…followed by Somalia…followed by…obligations…obligations so strong they'd crushed him, changed everything, tore him down, way, way, way down…but ultimately, set him free. Fuck the past, it was over with and it was behind him for a reason…Tig loved his kids in his own way, stayed the hell away from them because he did, he wasn't a father, never really was though he went through the obligated motions, and the only way to protect those kids was to get the hell out of their lives and stay out because they existed in a world he couldn't live in. And now he had Joss, that damn girl, who not only understood everything, and never reacted like there was something "wrong" with him, or attempted to "fix" him; Tig was what he wanted to be, he didn't want anyone's "help" to stop being it, this is what he always was, and finally, he was where he could be it. Joss didn't judge him for any of the things he'd done or did, or would do. She trusted him to be what he was, she trusted him, and that made everything better than he could ever have predicted it would be.

Obligations…Happy had his own now, unless he chose to just, "get rid of" his girl…but Tig knew he wouldn't, that look wasn't anywhere on his face. Nope, Happy was facing this, he just had to figure out how…and Tig, thanks to Joss...God fucking damn it, who he loved with as much strength and devotion as he did this club, knew how to get through anything now. Joss…she was so perfect…if Tig didn't know any better, he'd have sworn that Joss had been leading him through all of the shit he'd faced, forever drawing him in, guiding him to where he was now, until finally, both of them were where they belonged; with each other. Joss hadn't even been born yet when Tig had gotten married and had his two girls, but somehow, he'd been waiting for her to show him the way out of the trap he was in, beckon him through the exit doors of that old life, that could have just barely been called living. Happy had no idea what lay before him, but Tig knew exactly how it felt to be standing on the edge of it all, and unable to trust what beckoned him over it. It was way too much to try and explain to Happy right now…and what point was he trying to make with it? But he had to say something here…this club was going to look to Tig one day…he had to lead…but shit, he really sucked at this kind of stuff! He looked back at Happy, "pregnant?" He repeated, making a face, and resisting what he knew he had to do, and still trying to think of how to do it, how to say something that was going to give Happy some direction in all of this, "for real or hypothetically?"

"What?" Happy actually cringed at such a stupid question, and yeah it was a stupid question…but c'mon, Tig was at a loss here and that's what Joss had asked Tig when he'd proposed, there had to be some intelligence to it, right? No, what kind of fucking sense did that make? "Just forget it, man. I need to get out and ride…" Happy started to walk towards his bike, but Tig was quick to follow him.

"Yeah," Tig agreed. "You do that; it'll be good for you." He said, but then caught Hap's shoulder and turned him around, still not sure what he was going to say, and it was so frustrating, because all those thoughts that had been in his head only moments ago, they were what Tig needed to say, that's how he needed to lead…but how did he say them out loud? Well…how had he proposed to Joss? He stood there on the steps and stopped thinking and just opened his mouth, that's how. "But look man, things could be a lot fucking worse than they are for you."

Happy looked at him and started to shake his head, his expression a little angry and a little bothered, "what the hell you been smokin', Tig?"

"Jesus motherfucker, why does everyone always ask me that shit?" Tig exclaimed to no one in particular, then shook it off and looked back at Happy. "Look, I'm not myself; I got a lotta shit going on right now, kinda distractin' me, that's all." Tig explained, for a second time that day. He did want to tell Happy what it was that had him so distracted…this was great news that Tig never expected to be the bearer of! Hell, Tig wanted to tell everyone about it, but now wasn't the time, not for Hap. "Just…" fuck, what was he going to say? Joss…Tig sighed; he knew what he was going to say…he'd just never imagined himself saying it before…Jesus fucking Christ! This sucked! "You love the girl?" Fuck! He said the "L" word again!

"Yeah," Happy answered, with no hesitations. "Before I even knew what I was doing with her, yeah, I loved her."

Tig sighed, even chuckled a little. "Been there, doing that." He said, hoping to remove any weakness Happy might have been feeling he possessed because of what he felt, and Tig saw Hap nodding even now, but Hap just looked at the ground and tried to think of some solution to it all. "It's too late then, man." Tig shrugged, but there was still a tinge of frustration in his voice that he'd always carry himself where his feelings for Joss were concerned. "It's there, you can't stop it, and you'll never get control of it either, trust me! So you just go where it takes you, fight it if you want, but you're going to look like fucking asshole if you do…trust me on that too." Tig again sort of chuckled, and he felt every word of what he said to Happy, because he lived each one of them every day. Tig would never be used to loving Joss, and he'd never be comfortable that he did love her, particularly as much as he did, but he did love her. "Love a girl, you're going to get shit in your life you never asked for, no fucking question there, but…sometimes what you end up with is exactly what you've been needing and wanting, and unless you could love her, you were never going to find it." Tig sighed again, looking away from Happy and down at his own hands, his left hand…shit, rings! Shit! Diamonds! Whoa, too much right now! Again he looked up at Hap. "If you know how to love her, then you'll know how to love the kid, and the rest won't matter."

Happy looked back at him, kind of surprised that what Tig had said was not only something relevant, but also worthwhile…but then, Tig was equally as surprised…that damn girl, there she went, making him do more changing! "Yeah?" Happy asked, like Tig's words were rapidly sinking in.

"Yeah," Tig nodded and clapped him on the shoulder, then smiled a bit. Fuck! He'd gotten through this! Said some shit he wasn't real proud of, but sometimes, that's what it took…and God damn if Tig didn't have it! "Go, tear it up awhile," he said, looking towards the bikes, "It'll be cool, man, don't worry about it." And then Tig turned to walk back to the garage…where fuckin' Chewbadooba was…shit, he had to talk to him too…God damn it, what was he now; a therapist? But he turned back to Happy one last time. "Congratulations, bro! I hope it has her hair!" He smiled, and then gave him a nod.

Chapter 64; Part 2

Opie was still hovering over the old, beaten nearly to death pan head, picking through an old shoebox full of old little parts as Tig entered the garage. Fuck…back to trying to raise the dead and do the impossible…man, all this shit at the garage today was really bringing Tig down…he shoulda just stayed with Joss…maybe they could've been getting married right now! The sooner, the better, because then there was no having to explain what she meant to him to anyone…she'd be his property and his wife! And as long as she was willing to be known as "Mrs. Jocelyn Trager" in her photographs, yeah, Tig would let her do that modeling thing…but no nudity…no fucking way…that was his…Opie didn't get to see that! Opie…yeah, he had to talk to him…and he'd probably be talking to him for the rest of his fucking life, too.

"Where you been?" Opie asked of him without looking up, his mood unforeseeable based on his tone of voice.

"Went to see Joss," Tig answered, and didn't look at Opie either, he just looked down at the old pan head…such a waste of fucking time…but Clay didn't really care about this engine…Clay was making he and Opie fix something else, and it had nothing to do with the fucking engine. Shit…should Tig have told Ope exactly where he'd been? What kind of cluster-fuck would everything turn into now?

At the mention of Joss's name, sure enough, Opie had become more alert, like a dog suddenly seeing its owner and beginning to wag its tail…motherfucker! "You tell her about that calendar and shit?"

Fuck, right back into it too! Didn't Opie learn? Would he ever? Joss was not Ope's old lady! Shit…Tig couldn't marry her fast enough, could he? "Maybe I did, maybe I didn't." He was trying to ignore all the voices screaming for him to jam his fingers into Opie's eyes and keeping on jamming them in until both Ope's eyeballs popped out through his nose…but if this kept up…God fucking damn it…that bastard kissed Joss! He kissed Tig's property…he kissed Tig's dark, sweet, beautiful, perfect little angel…Opie'd kissed Tig's wife! But then…Tig almost fucked Clay's wife…and he'd killed Opie's wife…shit…well, at least that did take the edge off of what Tig was feeling at the moment. At least Opie did sort of have some kind of reason for wanting Joss; Tig had absolutely no reason for wanting Gemma when he did…but whether that made Ope more or less dangerous where Joss was concerned, Tig wasn't sure.

"You're not letting her do it, are you?" Ope asked; it was a question veiled as a statement, and he sat there calmly and unaffectedly pulling a valve stem seal from the shoebox, comparing it to the old engine, shaking his head, then tossed the seal back into the box again.

Holy ass fuck! Opie and his thing for Joss…what did Tig have to say or do to get Ope to shut the fuck up about Joss, and stop asking questions about her like she belonged to Ope himself? Opie needed the facts…right now! "That girl is mine, she does what I say she does, and doesn't do what I say she doesn't do!" Tig reminded, and he was looking at Opie this time, but Opie didn't look back, he was still searching through that fucking shoebox for parts that just might fit onto the destroyed pan head. "And there ain't a God damn thing you can do about it, Ope, so shut the fuck up!"

From out of nowhere, Opie suddenly looked up at Tig and then exploded. "You think I like this?" He roared, getting to his feet and tapping his chest with his fingers. "Because I don't! There's this…force that I can't figure out how to resist, pulling me headlong into a lot of shit from you, Joss and the rest of this club, and no matter what I do to try to stop it, it just keeps hooking into me and dragging me along for the ride!" He paused a moment and solidified his stance and started to cock an arm just slightly back, Tig watching and feeling himself pushing his own shoulders outwards, his fists already half raised, if they were going to go, Tig was ready…and more than willing, but just when it seemed like Ope was approaching that same place, he had stopped. He looked at Tig, but it wasn't anger in his eyes anymore, it was…weariness. Ah…fuck…Tig knew what that was, in both the case of Gemma, and Donna. "I don't want to want your old lady, man…not anymore than you wanted to kill mine."

Fuck…there was always something that could snuff out whatever emotion was about on the verge of making two adult men…two brothers, do something abrupt and stupid, and Opie had just said it. Yeah, neither of them had wanted to be where they were, and each now understood that about the other, but it was too late for them both. Shit! Tig dropped his hands at his sides as Ope turned away, sitting back on the stool he'd been sitting on before, looking through the shoebox, and his face was buried in his hands…fuck…was he crying? Shit! Now what? Tig didn't like it when women cried and were in need of comforting…but Opie? Aw c'mon…fuck no! "Ope," he said, but got no response, just the subtle bounce of Opie's shoulders as he pressed his hands tighter over his face. God damn it…was he going to have to do for Ope what he'd just come from doing for Happy? No! This day sucked! But he'd done it once…it wasn't like he didn't know how…and yeah, Tig had to do it again…this club was his one day. Fuck…at least there was a reward at the end of this; he'd be marrying Joss…hopefully tonight! "Hey man, look—"

Opie's hands slid away from his face and he jerked around at Tig. "No, you look!" He said forcefully. "I am trying to kill this thing! I am trying to make this go away! Why the fuck do you think I keep talking to you about her, and keep asking you about her? I'm trying to tell you everything you need to know about what I'm thinking, so I don't act on any of it myself!" Ope paused a moment, sneered a bit. "You're so damn good at pulling the trigger, why can't you help me kill this?"

"Hey!" Tig grunted, and his hands turned into fists again…fuck…how much further were things going to go without him hitting Ope? But, how could he deny that Ope was one hundred percent within his right to hold this over Tig's head forever? But Ope had to stop it with Joss…both of them had to stop, or there really would be some killing! Shit…Ope was confessing his thoughts concerning Joss…hmm, Tig had never considered that it might be something like that Ope was doing. He sighed and looked at Opie…honest and decent to say the least. "Well," he sighed, a bit impressed. "I'm not sure if that makes you brave or stupid."

"Me either," Opie glared back, but then sighed himself. "You know I love her, man…I guess I did from the moment you brought her around the club…I couldn't help it then, and I can't help it now…and you couldn't help it about the feds, and me…and Donna."

The mood had shifted, this was solemn and serious and…forgiving? "Yeah," Tig answered, but this was such an eerie feeling of undue understanding on Opie's part…or was it only that Tig wasn't ready to be forgiven?

Opie sighed again and shook his head. "I've been thinking a lot about it ever since…the story behind the Ten Patch happened." He said and looked eye to with Tig. "I'm leaving the club, man. I can't stay here, not like this, I'm no good to anyone, and if I get Joss hurt because of something I do…then…" but Ope didn't finish his sentence, he just turned away, shoulders stooped, and hands back over his face again. "Maybe nomad's the answer…maybe just full out MIA is…I don't know…but I'm leavin'. I have to."

Fuck! Between Opie and Happy, and what each one faced, Tig would have predicted Happy to be the one hitting the road, not Opie. But that Opie was, and that he couldn't even finish his thought about somehow causing harm to Joss…whoa…Tig hated that Ope loved her that much, that he even loved her enough to have said so, right there, in front of him…but…shit…Ope was decent, and fair and he did what was right, even if it hurt him badly to do it. Tig could use a man like that…no, he needed a man like that…Joss was right, Clay was right…fuck! Besides, Opie hadn't done anything to deserve being ex-communicated by anyone, and that included himself. "You're not leaving, Ope," Tig heard himself saying, and so many thoughts about his own past, with Gemma, and his own future with the club, raced inside his head. "It's like you said, I didn't mean to…kill Donna…and you don't mean to be feeling what you do about Joss."

"Doesn't make it alright though, does it?" Opie's hands once more fell away from his face, but he still didn't turn around, "doesn't fix anything."

"And which one of us has really fucking tried to?" Shit? Fuck! Had Tig really just said that? Yeah…he really was good at this…and it sucked ass! God damn it, he didn't want to be good at this! "Look, you're not going nomad, you need a majority vote on that, and I'm telling you now, you're not gettin' mine! And, if you do just go MIA, you already told me about that little plan, and I'll personally come after your ass!" Ope finally looked around at Tig, but it wasn't for very long, though Tig could see the surprise and the shock on his face a split second before Ope turned away from him again. Damn it…he really was going to need Opie one day, when this club was his…the past was the past, and it was behind them for a reason. This club took Opie's wife, the woman he loved, the mother of his children…but Ope was still here, still wearing a reaper cut! Opie loved this club with a passion and a conviction that was every bit as equal to what Tig himself felt for SAMCRO. Yeah, they were the same thing, they were chained together, but this time, it wasn't inside any dungeon of despair and retribution. Opie was his brother, and their bond was no longer shame. "C'mon Ope, I fucked up with Donna, and you never have to forgive me for that, and God's honest truth, I hope you never fuckin' do, but," Tig sighed, standing there shaking his head and then laid his hand on Ope's shoulder. "I'm tryin' real fucking hard not to fuck up with you too, so c'mon, don't go running off alone, this club's your family…" again Tig paused, his next words making him tremble a little. "I'm your family, Ope! And, I'm not lettin' you go through life out there on the road alone."

Opie turned back around again, still looking a bit shocked and confused, but he was also angry this time. "What is this? You can't save Donna, so you're trying to save me?"

But Tig didn't hesitate, didn't let the words cut him. "Yeah," he said levelly. "That's exactly what this is!" He answered strongly. "I've been where you are Ope, I may not have gotten there the same way you did, but I do understand being fucking tortured with how much you wish you could get control of something that there ain't no getting' control of." Ope sighed, faced Tig but looked away like he wished Tig wasn't right, like he wished Tig wasn't making sense…and fuck, Tig wished the same thing…but he was doing it…he was getting through this, again! "Look, Joss is a good girl, I trust her. You need to trust her too, cuz she ain't gonna let you put her, or you, in any situation that ain't good. She's strong, strong like you don't even know." Tig emphasized, and even now Tig felt how awed he was by his perfect, perfect angel. "You got no reason to leave and I'm not lettin' you, so grab yourself by the balls and get your head around the fact that I'm not going to stand by and let you do anything stupid, no matter what it is!" Ope was looking at him again, scowling a little, but he wasn't protesting, not at all. Good; there'd be no more talk of "nomad" or "MIA," Tig wouldn't hear it. Ope was staying. "You gettin' me, brother?"


	65. Rings and Wings

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story._

Chapter 65

Was this over-doing it? How many candles had she lit now in the living room? One, two, three, four, five…twenty-two…appointed in little groups of threes and fours in different areas, like little century posts on the shelf in the corner, on the hearth, on any flat surface. All the lights were out, though the sun wasn't really down as much as would have been preferable, though the wooded lot did help…candles gave a certain warmth and enticing energy to things…so did the little black dress Joss had chosen to put on. She hadn't worn it yet, and Gemma had said to make tonight "special" no matter what, to let the moment be what it was, and celebrate it, despite the secret Joss had. But…what if this was giving Tig a wrong impression? What if this was all too much…damn…why had she chosen fishnet stockings? Nothing said "over the top" like fishnet stockings…oh, but they looked so cute with the little Gothic inspired dress, all black, short sleeved, square cut, low neckline with black lace trim, a corseted bodice with four rows of shiny hooks and eyes down the front, and a little "A" line skirt that ended about six inches above Joss's knee. It fit her well, and she did look awesome…her long, straight, shiny black hair with the crimson ends, her flawless, matte makeup and winged eyeliner…she'd used the black "patent leather" stuff tonight, and it glittered so pretty in the candle light. The dress wore needed a necklace, and she'd gone to her leather collar with the charm bearing her man's name, and a pair of knee high, blocky heeled boots had completed everything.

She stared at herself in the mirror on the living room wall now, worried green eyes that fought so hard against the happiness she wanted to experience…but she was happy; nothing could change how exquisite and how special Tig's proposal made her feel, and she'd hoped that she'd captured that in her overall look…and maybe she had, she looked like a porcelain doll…a sweet, tragic, little doll. Fuck! Joss hoped she didn't look like a doll! Tig freaked out around dolls! Oh well…he was going to be freaking out soon enough anyway.

"Tell him," Gemma had insisted over the phone. "Tell him everything, that's all you can do, this is Tigger's call," she'd said to her, and the idea of doing so made Joss so nervous, but Gemma didn't sound nervous at all, adding, "If it changes his mind, it'll only be for a little while." Joss could only hope…the fear that this was a deal breaker for Tig still loomed enough to keep her from being more celebratory, but Gemma had sounded so certain. It was nearly ten after five…Tig would be home any moment now…and all of her secrets would be known by him. Why'd he have to propose? Why now?

Joss flopped down on the couch, wondering again if all these candles looked too cahthedral-ish, then panicked over how doll-like she might look, everything playing out against the curtain of her original and biggest fear…how did she explain this to Tig? It could change a lot about how he saw her…and it would be all her fault…she'd deserve it if he turned his back on her, disgusted, and called off the proposal, and what they had together now…she wasn't what he thought she was, after all. Shit…the closer the clock ticked to five o'clock, the more difficult it became to think what Gemma told her to think…."be happy, be honored, you're a bride to be, tell him 'yes!'" Joss wanted to, she wanted to so much, but…fuck…the dyna's engine rumbled lowly as it came closer to the house…Tig was home, and she had no more time to plan, or change anything. Damn…fishnet stockings…well, maybe they'd distract him so much that they'd spend a few hours upstairs before she'd have to tell him everything?

Joss didn't remember seeing Tig walk up the sidewalk, or hear him climbing the front porch stairs, she was so lost in her thoughts, but all of a sudden, the front door opened, and then closed, and there stood her man…like nothing could knock him over whether on his bike or on his feet…all over solid in ways that most men would never even understand…aloof, cool, dangerous, sexy, mysterious and strange, but in his amazing blue eyes flickered some extraordinary power that lay deep inside him, gently coiled until called upon to strike. God she loved him!

He looked like the day had been much more than he'd asked for, but there was a look of surprised satisfaction in his ice blue eyes that pushed through the mental exhaustion, though he staggered a bit to her, throwing his arms around her as if she were some oasis in the vast desert he'd crossed today. "Hey," he said to her as he clasped her to him and Joss could only sigh, he was so strong…being in his embrace, being against his broad chest like this, this feeling would always win out over anything else that battled for control of her, no matter what it was. "Oh shit!" Tig suddenly ground out, but didn't let go of her. "I meant to get the flowers!"

Joss shook her head and smiled. "I told you I didn't really need them. I just need you, I love you!" She told him, her palms flat on his chest as he held her, and she did, she loved him so very very much, and she'd never meant to lie to him…but…

"I know," he answered, and softly stroked her cheek, his eyes peering into hers, and Joss prayed he couldn't see what she'd been hiding. He straightened a little more and ran his fingers through her long ebony hair. "I'm sorry, baby," he sighed. "I told you we'd do this right when I got home, and here I am, no flowers, no ring…" Tig sighed again. "And you love me anyway," he shook his head, and kissed her again.

"Tig, don't worry about any of that, okay?" Joss answered, lifting her head from his chest and looking up at him. Hmm…now might be a good time to tell him! Oh…but he was looking down at her with such peace in his eyes, something that rarely ever shined in them, and he was cupping her cheek and smoothing her hair…how could she ruin this for him?

"You are so beautiful, Joss. You know that, don't you?" He asked, staring at the color of her eyes, his fingertips gently caressing over the paleness of her skin, tracing the heart shape of her red lips; scrutinizing her as if noticing the subtle things about her for the first time. "You're so God damn special to me…I can't believe I want the things with you that I want…and I'm trying to not want them even as I speak, but it ain't workin'…you're mine, and you're always going to be; my mark on your hip, my patch on your back, and my name behind yours…and I want it all, baby!"

"You're going to make me cry," Joss replied, and lay her head back down on his chest just incase she did start to tear up. "I've always been yours, Tig. Nothing can change that." There…hopefully, when she told him what she had to tell him, he'd remember that! He wouldn't be too upset, would he? Something like what she had to say shouldn't bother him too much…not with everything else they'd done, right? But…what if it did? It was going to…she knew why…and that's why she hadn't told him…besides the obvious legal problems this presented…but mostly, it would be the other thing…that other horrible, disgraceful life she'd had…what she was, what her father had made her, what he'd done to her…what it could all mean to Tig when she finally told him what she had to tell him…Joss sighed again and went to wrap her arms around him and hold him tightly, he was her protector, but then she remembered and kept her hands flat on his chest.

Tig enveloped her again, "C'mon," he smiled, pulling her closer and pressing his chest against her palms. "I said I want it all, go ahead." He was kissing her even before her hands had met between his shoulder blades, and he lifted her up a bit, taking a few steps forward until Joss's back hit the foyer wall, making her gasp. "Yeah," he moaned in a husky whisper, encouraging her to tighten her grip even more, "like that, gimme more…show me you love me," he let the strength in his arms be known as well, squeezing her tighter and kissed her again, "I need you, Joss," he said against her lips, then kissed her again, "I need you so fucking much, forever!" Joss's heart raced and she couldn't believe he was saying this, in complete sentences rather than inter-dispersed singular words, and she hugged him so tightly that her arms actually ached, but Tig only groaned and leaned into her more and more, kissing her harder and harder. "Yours," he murmured breathlessly, lips sucking at hers, her own sucking at his, tongues flicking, but there was space enough for him to revert back to his "code"…or so Joss thought. "I've always been yours, baby" and the next kiss was longer, deeper, Joss unable to smile and let out how good it felt to hear such words from him and she trembled with her bliss between Tig and the wall. "I spent the first half my life waiting for you."

Tig…was he really saying this…a million stars shot across the sky of her heart, their glittering dust soaring behind them and leaving her with a tingling rush as it settled…oh…oh God…she couldn't faint, not while holding him and kissing him and feeling such rapture, but somehow, Joss was spinning out of control, dangling from Tig's arms as his words carried her away, feeling how he kissed her deeper and growled longingly, holding her in place even as she floated away on her elation and love for him. She sucked at his lower lip and he kissed the upper one of hers, then cupped her jaw and took control, changing the angle, tilting her head back a bit, and poured every one of his desires into her, Joss's tongue submitting, just like the rest of her did…this was perfect…it was what a proposal should feel like, it was what it should be…but it wasn't exactly honest of her…or legitimate…shit…she should just get it over with…but…he was too…addictive.

"Tig," she tried to say, but her voice was only a murmur as mouths and tongues melded and fused. "I really want this…but—"

Tig pulled away momentarily, "I really want this too," he gasped and took a breath, but then stole hers away again, sucking the air from her between her parted lips as he kissed her hungrily, his hand grasping her fishnet encased thigh, groaning as he ran his fingers over the familiar, naughty texture, and he lifted her knee to his waist, leaning into her more and more. When he started kissing her like that, there was no out…what started would always finish…and knowing that he wanted to marry her was only making it that much harder to resist…Joss loved him, she wanted him, and she wanted to marry him…but…there was that one little issue…but it seemed so far away when Tig's mustache rubbed suggestively against her lip like that. "My fucking day's been a window into the future," he said, and kissed her again, pressing his hips deeply into hers. "I gave Happy the answer he needed, Ope and me found a way to start climbing outta this shit we're in…and even though I forgot the fucking flowers, didn't even think about a fucking ring, the best part of all of today's been you, baby," he whispered in a passion strained voice, both of Joss's legs firmly wrapped around his waist, her heart pounding, muscles quivering and every nerve ending thrumming like she'd been struck by lightening, and Tig's hand was now trailing up her thigh, higher and higher, creeping beneath her skirt, up and up, over the tops of her stockings, Joss's slit awash with its welcoming juices and lengthening with her arousal to receive the hardness of Tig's big cock that grew more and more against her belly. "Tell me you love me again."

Two fingers suddenly thrust inside her black, silk panties and Joss cried out, clinging to Tig even more and trying to catch her breath as both his digits found her excited clit and began to playfully scissor over it. It was too much, and yet not enough, a ticklish sensation gone out of control, and she could only rub herself against Tig's hand and hold him tighter as he kissed her deeply again. "I," she managed to say as his mouth left hers briefly, "love you!" She finally gasped, and Tig growled ardently again, his kisses, and his churning fingers becoming more and more relentless. His big cock was good and hard, thumping and throbbing between both their bodies…Jesus, why didn't he make a move for his belt and his fly…maybe she could? Joss tried to take one arm from around him, to move it down below his waist, but Tig's warning rumbled deeply in his broad chest, and Joss returned her hand where' he'd wanted it, holding him tighter as they kissed and kissed and kissed. This was so much better than talking about…anything.

"Not yet," he whispered gutturally passed her ear, and instead of kissing her again, he rested his forehead to hers and tried to catch his breath. "Ever since I left you this morning, all I've been thinking about was coming back here, and fucking you so hard your next tattoo's where no one can see it, and of my dick, but," he paused, settled himself as much as he could, and then took her by the chin and lifted her eyes up to his. "I want to hear you say 'yes' first," he said. "Will you marry me?"

Chapter 65; Part 2

"Jesus motherfucking Christ, Joss!" Holy shit…no wonder she'd reacted the way she did this morning when he'd put this question to her. She wasn't happy about her answer; that was obvious, slumped there on the stairs, under a canopy of ugly red paint, in her pretty black dress, shining black hair, lovely green eyes reddening within the glittering Egyptian Princess eyeliner that was slowly going to waste as she teared up more and more. But Tig wasn't giving up…he'd never give up, but fuck, this was really going to cause a shitload of problems…fuck…"How in hell did that happen?"

Joss sighed and looked up at him, and he could see how horrible she felt, probably wishing she could disappear, probably thinking that she'd broke his heart…but she hadn't…it complicated things, it really really really complicated things…but there were ways around this. But still…Tig wanted an answer. Was she hiding anything else that might get locked up? Joss took a deep breath, but all of the steadying she'd managed to do nearly washed away again when she looked at him; he should tell her everything would be okay…that would help…but hell, she'd kept this little secret too long for him to be going easy on her now. "Tig," she said, and had to look away from him. "Do you remember the first time we met, two years ago, that night in that shitty bar when I did everything I could to get you to look at me…and when you finally did, I told you I was twenty-two, and you laughed and said, 'how old are you?' and so I told you I was nineteen, and you laughed again and said, 'how old are you?'…so I finally told you I was sixteen?"

Well…that's how that happened then…fuck! Tig nodded his head, and sighed himself. "You were really fifteen, weren't you?"

"Yeah," Joss sighed, and looked ashamed and a little scared, and very very sorry. "But I had to lie to you then, you wouldn't have talked to me if you knew I was just some…little fifteen year old girl! You understand why I did what I did, I know you do!"

"Alright," Tig sighed, looking down at the foyer now, hands at his hips as he tried to think of what to do next. "So, we get married any time soon, I go to jail…"

"Yeah," Joss nodded sadly, so full of shame, but looked up at him. "I'll be eighteen in a little less than eight months…that's time we…or I…could maybe use to plan some kind of wed—"

"Eight months?" Tig's lost look shifted from the floor to her, only he wasn't lost anymore, he was shocked again. "You're closer to sixteen than to eighteen?" He bellowed…but…whoa…he was impressed and moved and strengthened by how 'by the tail' Joss had this life when he'd thought she was eighteen…but she was only seventeen…and barely that…damn…God fucking damn…she was going to be one hell of a queen!

"Tig," she sighed and sounded a little like she was bowing up and getting annoyed with his annoyance. "What happened to making our own rules and the things that matter to citizens not being how we live?"

Tig's head jerked towards her at her words and he instantly calmed; that damn girl, she had a remarkable talent for centering him. Fuck…yeah, she was definitely going to be one hell of a queen! But her age…she was a minor…a minor child…and he'd been…"Joss…you gotta understand where I am a little more than that," but then, what was there for her to understand…Tig didn't even understand…no, he understood…he just didn't like what he understood. "Your father…what he did to you…and how old you were, and how old you are now…and me…I've been doing the same—"

"No!" Joss got to her feet quickly, her shimmering green eyes sharp as she scowled. "It's not my place to tell you what to do, I know it isn't, but I have to on this one! I don't want you doing this! I don't want you thinking this! I can't live with even the idea that you're connecting the two, so don't you even start!" She ordered; pointing her finger at him so closely it was on his chest in no time. "There's shit in your past that you don't to talk about, and you want to pretend it just never happened, and that's fine, I'll do that for you, baby. And God damn it, but that shit with my…with Doctor Donald MacQueen, is the same way for me! I don't want to talk about it! I don't want you to ever bring it up!" She looked levelly at him, and Tig was nodding despite how surprised he was that she could be so assertive with him…but it was good that she could be, even if he did own her…she would be an illustrious queen! "That's not what you and I are; that's not what we ever were! I love you, so don't you dare take how I feel about you, which is the most precious of things I've ever felt in my entire life, and defile it with anything about how I grew up!"

"Alright," well, now he knew why she'd been keeping that a secret, she knew he'd do what he did…she knew him so fucking well…but Tig would honor her request. "It's out then, baby. There's you and there's me, and that's all there is, okay? I'm sorry." It felt so damn good to be saying that, but he sighed, feeling a little like he'd nearly ruined this. "We're good," he promised, and then pulled her close; hugging her tightly…he understood everything now. "You protect me, and us, a lot better than I ever thought you would, or even could, you know that?"

He felt her chest rise and fall against his in a long deep breath, but then she looked up at him and smiled a bit. "I know how you feel about me, and I know you'd do anything it took to save me from being hurt by anyone, or anything, including yourself," she told him, then lay her head back down against his chest again and Tig hugged her tighter; yeah, she always said the right thing. "It doesn't show on the outside very much, well, not at all, really," she laughed. "But you really are a good man, Tig…when you want to be, and for those that you want to be a good man for. Nobleness carried on the everyday exterior for everyone to see is usually just the selfish need for praise…you don't have that need, and that's what makes you free." Tig smiled and kissed her forehead, about to tell her how good she was for him, for the club, for the life, but Joss started to speak again. "Of course, you are still facing jail time if you try to marry me any time inside the next eight months, though…" she laughed a little. "Sorry!"

"No, we'll figure this out somehow," Tig promised, and then kissed her again. She did have a remarkable talent for bringing him back to center, no matter how far away from it he roamed…and just as he tried to protect her from everything, including himself, Joss strove for the same thing, she wouldn't let him hurt himself, or her…she was strong, stronger than anyone could know. "Eight months," he said again, and looked at her again, she was so beautiful, even if her make up a bit smudged around her eyes, and her hair a bit mussed from clutching her head worriedly. She knew every turn and bend and wicked drop off he had, and she loved every last one of them…she loved everything that was him…she was…Tig should…he was still forgetting something, she hadn't exactly said "yes" yet, but…he should do more than just ask her…and since they were about to commit themselves to one another…and she was so, Joss…maybe he should tell her…no…yes…no…she already knew it, what was the point? Because he was proposing…and what kind of sense did it make not to say it to her now? This was when he was supposed to tell her! No…there were no "supposed to's in life"…he'd read that once on a bumper sticker…fuck…tell her! No! Yes! No! Shit! Fine…he was just going to open his mouth, and see what came out…it worked before. "Joss, you're jail bait," fuck, that's what came out of his mouth? Really? She giggled a little, but listened, and Tig, hoping to somehow erase the prior statement, kept talking. "But I don't fucking care, you mean a lot to me, you know that, and I know you know how I feel too…but, you're so…in me, and I don't know how you got in there, and I sure as hell can't figure out how to get you out…but I think that's because you're here, in this world, to be with me…and I'm here to be with you, and no matter what the fuck we do, we're fuckin' stuck, baby…ain't either of us going anywhere without the other one, like it or not."

Joss was laughing a little bit again, wrapping her arms around him. "That's sweet, Tig," she giggled, but softened her expression and smiled at him. "Really."

Tig's heart skipped a beat, but he tried to ignore it…he wasn't done saying whatever it was he was saying. "I can't prove it, but I know it…there's a reason you're here, I did something and the world was all, 'he needs an angel in his life,' and here you are!" Joss sighed and held him a little tighter, and damn if it didn't feel so good in her arms. Tig smiled, though he hadn't been meaning to…that damn girl…go ahead, say it…might as well now; he'd said everything else. "I don't say this shit…you know I don't say this shit, and you know I'm not saying it now, so you don't hear me, okay? But…Joss, angel…I lo—" fuck…he'd almost had it…try it again…he'd said it in front of Ope, with no hitches! "I mean, I fuckin' lo—" why the hell couldn't he say this? There were no speed bumps in that fucking word! "I lllllllllllllll…oooooo…fffffff—" what? He "loffed" her? Well, he hadn't actually said that on purpose…Joss's fingers were all of a sudden over his lips, making him say he "loffed" her.

"Tig!" Joss interjected, her fingers firmly against his lips. "You don't have to say it," she said, then sighed. "I don't want you to say it."

"Mmmwhy?" He was so stunned that she'd said that he didn't even realize her fingers were still against his mouth…fuck…Tig grabbed her wrist and threw her hand back at her, away from his lips. "Why?" He re-asked. Here he was, sweating his balls off to try to say words that just weren't supposed to come out of his mouth…and she didn't want to hear them?

"Because, that's yours, you keep it in there." She told him. "I think that might be what keeps you going, it's your strength, knowing how you feel, but understanding the forte of what it is so well, that you know you can't let it out, because it's just too much to try to contain within a few words…that would kill it and us with it…" Joss smiled again. "It means so much more, and it has so much more power if it remains unspoken. Samson had hair, you've got this." Shit, there it was, his internal struggle defined…damn…no wonder he'd never noticed she was only seventeen! She leaned into him more, her hands moving slowly over his back, feeling all the muscle she could beneath his cut and then smoothing over his arms the same way, then his chest. "And I'd rather feel that you love me instead of hear it."

Damn…she was an angel; she had to be…who the hell else would be able to figure him out like this? She always did understand Tig better than he did, she always would…she was going to be the queen of queens! "Okay," Tig nodded his head, and pulled her closer. "I won't say…what I won't say," he half smiled, and gingerly tried to correct her smudged eyeliner with the tip of his fingers, but it didn't work…fuck it, she was perfect, no matter what. "You get what I feel. And you gotta understand that I need to know shit about you, like, how old you are…and I understand that sometimes it'll be shit that scares you to tell me but the best way to not be scared is to talk to me, right?" Joss smiled and nodded, looked like she wanted him to kiss her, but he couldn't, not yet. "So…marry me?"

And she was laughing! Fuck! Oh hell…let her laugh…Tig'd do anything to make her happy, and that was the sad truth. "Yes!" She finally replied, and threw her arms around him. "Yes, yes and yes!" She laughed again, "I think that covers each time you've asked me today!"

Finally! Without thinking about it, Tig hoisted her up and spun around with her, a victorious kind of groan echoing against Joss's laughter, her hands grasping both his shoulders and her eyes shining down on him endearingly. She loved him so God damn much…enough to marry him! Fucking age of consent laws…he wanted to marry her, now! "Hey," he smiled up at her. Juice! Juice could hack into something, change Joss's date of birth…what was her date of birth? "When is your birthday?"

Joss laughed again. "The things we don't know about each other…" she sighed, but then leaned downwards and kissed him, Tig lowering her back to the floor so he could curl up around her and really kiss her. "October fourth, nineteen ninety-three," she managed to answer as his lips broke contact briefly with hers, but he kissed her again a split second later…but…wait…nineteen ninety-three? Yeah…she was seventeen, not eighteen as he'd previously thought…she'd been born in nineteen ninety-three. October fourth…nineteen ninety-three? Shit! Fuck! For some reason, Tig started laughing, laughing so much he couldn't kiss her anymore, and he raised his head, and looked down at her, still laughing, like he'd just narrowly escaped some certain death. "What?" Joss was staring at him with concern in her eyes. "Is something wrong?"

Tig shook his head…but yeah, October fourth, nineteen ninety-three had been the day when everything went wrong…until now…there was no way Tig would have her date of birth altered, not now. He looked down at Joss, that damn girl…his Joss, his queen, his wife…his angel. "Baby," he said, and his voice was weak with this sudden recognition, and he felt like he should have been on his knees in front of her…his angel…that's what she was…right from the start. "You were born on the same day that I wasted that kid, and won a Bronze Star in Mogadishu." He was looking up at her now…because he was on his knees…yeah, he should stay there, he belonged there, in front of her like this…because she was what lead him through all of that shit, she was what set him free…she was what saved him…she was his guardian angel. "You knew what I was from the moment you met me," Tig said, looking up at how…amazing and beautiful…and perfect she was. No one had an old lady like her, no one; she was going to be one hell of a queen! "And I now I finally know what you are!"

Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading, it has been a pleasure to write this for you, and I will miss doing so! I hope you have enjoyed "Intended" as much as I have enjoyed your attention to it, and once again, I cannot thank those that chose to leave their reviews and comments! Stay tuned for the sequel to "Intended" which will be titled, "Three Princes." Thank you all again, more than I can say!


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